


GangLand

by Krisdaughter_of_Athena



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Gun Violence, Guns, Human AU, I guess you can call it that in chapter 11, Violence, Witchcraft, also because of mentions of hate speech, also hate spurned violence, children and teenagers die sometimes so I made the rating high, clashes of religious beliefs, follows the Uprising series, long chapters, lots of death, with some bits and pieces of Betrayal Legacy and Evolution mixed in occasionally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:21:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 85,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisdaughter_of_Athena/pseuds/Krisdaughter_of_Athena
Summary: In Argon, everything is not what it seems. What was once a peaceful town, is now overrun with the deafening orange of the Occupation. Fortunately, one person stands in their way...





	1. Prologue- Here Lies What's Left of Us

_Here lies what’s left of us._

_The gunshot that cracked as a young boy’s body hits the ground._

_The hand seemingly made in blood-red design pulls back with a deadly smirk as the protestor falls._

_The friend is held back by the others, his eyes a deadly fire of tears._

_The first sights and sounds of a revolution._

_Here lies what we used to be._

_And rising again, is someone ready to fight._


	2. Chapter One- Origins of a Renegade Part 1

High in the air, someone seems to fall into existence, emerging from the dark clouds of night. His panting is barely heard as the wind whips past him, but his struggling yell echoes all around him. He twists, trying to reach something on his back and he grunts when he misses.

“Come on, come _on_ …”

He yells in panic as he turns to where a dark blue T is visible, if just for a moment, before turning away. Finally, he’s able to grab the string and a wasp-wing parachute pops out.

But it’s too late.

He crashes to the ground in an explosion. The parachute breaks against the ground and he slowly rolls to a stop, eyes closed behind his goggles in a pain-filled stupor.

And the damage grows behind.

<………………………..>

_Ow…_

Groaning slightly, he sits up, numbly realizing that somehow his goggles, hood, and bandit-like mask still cover his face. He looks around in confusion.

_Where am I?_

He sees the barren landscape and he realizes.

_The Outlands…I’m on the fringes of Argon!_

He lets out a slow sigh of relief when he hears a crackle. He stands and turns to see the ground begin to disappear from the injury of the land.

“Oh, great.” He mutters before turning and running.

He begins to pant soon after tearing away, but he doesn’t stop in fear of falling into the pit that is quickly forming behind him.

He sees a cliff ahead. He forces himself faster. His feet leave the cliff edge in a jump and he yells slightly as he swings his arms in an attempt to get farther. His hands grab the edge and he tightens his grip so he doesn’t fall. He hears the other side crumble and he pulls himself to his knees on the ledge. He leans over, panting silently.

_I could’ve died!_

With that thought, he grunts as he pushes himself to his feet and stumbles away.

<…………………………………………>

Moments later, he finds himself at a junkyard.

_What is this doing all the way out here?_

Cautiously, he slides down from the ledge he had come to and begins to examine the area.

Something shines against a sliver of moonlight out of the corner of his eye. Turning fully, he grins under his mask and runs over to a dark four-wheeler of some sort. He finds an old key in the ignition. Eagerly, he turns it. The engine rumbles slightly before it dies.

_Hmm…_

Frowning under his mask, he pulls a tool from his belt and kneels down next to the engine. Slowly, he opens the hood and he immediately sees the problem.

The inside is a mess, covered with excess mess. Carefully, he puts his hands inside and sets to work.

Moments later, he stands up and closes the hood. He walks over to the four-wheeler and climbs on. He turns the key and smiles when it roars to life. He sets on the gas and tears out of the junkyard.

He’s just on the edge of the compost when he realizes he has a tail. Turning back slightly, he sees a bike of red following him. Frowning once more, he accelerates and drops old nails behind him. The biker notices and dodges.

 When the chased looks up, his eyes widen when he sees the hill. Thinking quickly, he turns slightly as he flies over the hill. His tail reaches the hill and flies to the other side of the four-wheeler before landing smoothly and not far behind the man he’s chasing. The biker speeds up into he is barely in front of his prey. Then, he speeds up and quickly turns, dropping tire rippers on the ground.

_NO!_

The victim’s tires run over them and are immediately torn to pieces. The four-wheeler skids and flips on its side, sending the rider rolling to a stop in the snow with a grunt. He’s getting to his knees when he’s blinded by a bright light in the night. He shields his eyes as the biker in red gets off and walks towards him.

His words come out in a growl, “You’re a long way from home.”

Gritting his teeth, the victim pulls off his knife and charges at the biker. In a lazy motion, he pulls something off his waist and tosses it through the air. Before his opponent can react, the biker’s object hits him straight in the chest.

He lets out a yell of pain as electricity arches through his body. He falls to the ground as his knife skids away and he passes out for the second time that night.

<…………………………..>

When he wakes again, he finds himself in a dark room, nothing else in sight. He sighs as he shifts slightly and the handcuffs on his wrists clank. He looks down to the handcuffs.

_Oh, great._

As the noise vibrates, the biker comes out of the darkness.

He comes forward, kneels down, and wrenches off the bandit-like mask.

The captive’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t speak in protest.

His captor continues, pulling off the hood to show the spiky brown hair and wrenches off the goggles, showing his tired, russet eyes. A boy, nonetheless, pretending to be a legend in excuse of his crimes.

After a few moments, the captor speaks.

“You know, you’re not Tron.”

The boy, who had closed his eyes for a second, opens them again, “Never said I was.”

Silence.

The captor looks over the boy, searching for any evidence to use against the boy playing dress-up.

But there isn’t any, so he continues.

“Who are you?”

The boy’s face doesn’t change from the glare he had picked up, “Name’s Rosenfield. Beck Rosenfield.”

Silence again.

“You really thought you could get away with what you did back there?”

Beck, as the boy is apparently called, looks up to his captor, face set, but his eyes seeming to smirk.

“I _did_ get away with it.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me.”

“Well you weren’t there, were you? So you don’t know, am I right?”

The captor is silent before he turns and backhands Beck. His head snaps to the side before looking back up, eyes full of rage.

The captor is not concerned as he walks away, his back to Beck. Beck looks down.

 _Of course it had to be the Outlands, the place_ nobody _goes!_

He frowns before his eyes flash with an idea.

_Maybe I can get out. Escape. My wrench is still on me!_

He shifts his hands to reach the pin hidden at his waist.

“You’re not afraid?”

Beck gasps in surprise before looking back to see his captor is behind him. He drops his hands from his waist.

He narrows his eyes, “No.”

His captor remains expressionless behind his own mask.

“You should be.”

His captor walks around him, examining him seemingly.

“So, _Beck_ …”

Beck looks up in attention.

“What made you decide to go Renegade?”

Beck rolls his eyes.

_This sounds like an interview, not a freaking interrogation!_

“If you think I’m the Renegade, then there’s no point in talking.”

The captor is a sudden blur; Beck blinks to find a familiar object sit on his head, like a band.

“Then don’t talk. I’ll let you show me.”

A screen seems to flicker into existence, showing a large-domelike building.

The captor looks from the building to Beck, “You work here?”

As the captor continues to search for something, Beck answers, “Yeah…”

His next words force the captor to turn around as he looks up:

“But you wanna know why I did what I did?”

_Flashba ck_

**_“It all began there: Abel’s Garage.”_ **

_“Beck, you coming? I want that rematch!”_

_Beck looks up to see his friend, Bohdi Gauron, has his arms crossed and is standing just behind him._

_“Hang on Bohdi.” He says tightly, trying to fix the engine of the bike._

_Bohdi watches him for a moment before kneeling down next to him, taking something from his waist, “Here. Try it with this.”_

_Beck turns and sees the wrench in his friend’s hand. He smirks, “Didn’t think you were in such a rush to get beat.” Yet he takes it anyway._

**_“It never felt like work. That’s probably because I was doing it with my friends.”_ **

_Two more people walk up as Beck sets to quick work of the bike._

_The girl with blue hair, his friend Mara Croxen, leans her arms on top of Bohdi’s head, making him seemingly shrink. She smirks, laughing, “Showoff.”_

_“Just using my natural talents.” He replies, smirking slightly._

_“Looks like showing off_ to me _!” She says in singsong._

_“Or he’s afraid of the rematch.” Bohdi adds, smirking._

_His other friend, Zed Schoffel, smirks and crosses his arms, “Why would he be? You’ve never won_”_

_“_ Yet, _Zed. Yet.”_

_Mara giggles as Beck finishes up, turning the key in the ignition. It rumbles in satisfaction and Beck takes off his safety equipment._

_“There.” He turns to his friends, “_ Now _we can go.”_

_He grunts as he dodges something thrown at him. He turns to see the old wrench crash to the ground. He turns back, smiling, before jumping down after them._

**_“Now I may be  young, but I’ve been around long enough to know that I had it good. Abel’s Garage was not just a job. He takes in all the orphans who need a family and a job, so it’s my home.”_ **

_Beck grunts as he throws his fist at Bohdi._

**_“The only thing I enjoyed more were the games we’d get into after.”_ **

_Bohdi dodges his hit and retaliates with one of his own. Beck flips back and crouches low, teasing with “Hah! Not bad Bohdi! Looks like you’ve been practicing.”_

_“I don’t need to practice for you, Beck.” He calls back, dodging a kick from Beck._

_Beck lands in a crouch position again, “Looks like you do.” He attempts to punch him in the face, but Bohdi dodges. Yet Beck had been waiting for this. He turns and kicks him in the chest while Bohdi is off-balance. He falls to the ground, winded and Beck walks over to him after claiming victory. He holds out his hand for Bohdi to take, “Best you can do?”_

_He takes Beck’s hand and stands, “I’m just getting warmed up, Beck.”_

_Beck grins, “That’s what I like about you, Bohdi. You don’t give up_”_

_Beck’s cut off as a motorcycle rumbles through the streets. He looks up to the skies as he sees jets of the nightmarish kind take over the skies._

_Out of the largest one, a voice speaks to the citizens below._

_“Greetings. This is General Tesler.” The voice, a growl of some degree, echoes all over the city._

_Zed and Mara look up from their game. Mara puts down her paintball gun and looks up at the sky, Zed joining her._

_“That can’t be…” Mara starts._

_“Good.”  Zed finishes._

_Beck looks up to see guards are coming around the park area, surrounding him and his friends._

_“In the name of our great leader, CLU, I now claim Argon City as Occupied territory.”_

_Beck curses under his breath._

Of course, it’s the Occupation!

_The Occupation, a merciless gang that declared themselves the leader after their leader claimed to have wiped the world clean of their former , Flynn, and his captain, Tron. CLU, the pseudonym that he took on, then took control with his gang and claimed absolute rule over the people. Until now, Argon had remained untouched, a haven for refugees. And now, that haven has crumbled._

_Beck looks up as four large planes hover towards them, a large case between the two. He looks to the side as guards go by, setting little objects on the arenas. His eyes widen._

Bombs.

_Mara lets out a cry of shock as they flee from the area as the arena explodes. They watch in stunned silence as the case is dropped in the area where the arena used to be. They unveil and the mechanics get to their feet and start at it in shock._

_In the place of the arena, a fifty foot statue sits. Its golden sheen glows harshly on their eyes as the face is on they’re all familiar with._

_“Definitely not good.” Beck mutters to Bohdi, still looking at the statue of CLU._

_They turn to see more guards, tanks, and jets head towards them, growing closer to them._

_“If Tron were here…” Beck says, watching the army warily._

_“You mean if Tron were_ alive _.” Zed says from his spot on the ground, glaring._

_Bohdi ignores both of them as he puts away his weapon and marches up to the nearest gang member, a masked guard with a staff._

_“Hey! That’s our field!”_

_He points back to where the statue is._

_The shifts his staff and shakes his head. “This is our field now,” he says, voice garbled by the mask._

_Bohdi’s face turns outraged, “Hey you can’t do_”_

_SMACK_

_Bohdi falls back towards his friends as the staff hits him on the side of the face. Everyone gasps, and Mara whispers his name._

_Yet Bohdi gets back up, rubbing away the blood on his cheek._

_The guard tenses as his hand shifts down to his waist, “No more games.”_

_He turns away from Bohdi, lifting up his mask slightly so he could breathe._

_Bohdi walks towards him quickly, “You don’t scare us_!”_

_In an instant, the guard turns back around._

_BANG_

_Bohdi freezes, holding his chest, eyes wide._

_The guard watches him, a deadly smirk crawling on his face._

_Bohdi falls, landing on his side._

_“BOHDI!”_

_Beck runs forward to his friend, getting down on the ground next to him. Bohdi looks up to him, eyes fighting to stay open._

_“Bohdi, no no no don’t_!”_

_Bohdi looks to Beck, silent. After a couple moments, he turns away, eyes closing and his heart stopping its fight._

_Mara gasps and looks to Beck in shock. Beck doesn’t say anything at first. Checking Bohdi’s waist, he pulls off his dagger and stands, turning to face the guard. Tears of hot anger well up in his eyes, but he manages to say without any sobs, “You won’t get away with that.”_

_The guard reloads his gun as he looks to Beck’s clenched-white fist that holds the dagger, “Wanna be next?”_

_Beck narrows his eyes and shoots forward…_

_Only to be stopped by Zed._

_He puts his hands out to stop Beck and pushes him back._

_“Let me at him!” Beck growls, tears falling._

_“Beck STOP! There’s nothing we can do!”_

_After a couple more minutes of struggling against Zed, Beck turns away, still clutching the dagger. Beck turns back to Zed, “For now.”_


	3. Chapter Two- Origins of a Renegade Part 2

_Beck lets himself be lead back to the Garage, not bothering to say a word. He never looks up from the ground. Zed and Mara exchange worried looks._

_Bohdi is dead._

How can it be possible?

_But they know it’s true, because some of the others at the arena saw what happened and took pity. They picked up the body to carry back as two others walked behind the broken group of friends, silently consoling._

_“Zed! Mara! Beck!”_

_The two look to the entrance and see their boss and father-figure, Abel, run out to meet them, dark eyes wide with relief._

_“I heard the message; you guys had me worried! Is everyone alright?”_

_Beck looks to him quickly before looking back at the ground._

_Abel looks at the group, “Wait. Where’s Bohdi?”_

_That’s the sympathizers cue; they come in front of Abel and lay down Bohdi’s still body gently._

_“We’re sorry.” One of them, a dark-skinned male with onyx, spiked hair says, looking mournfully at Abel, “He was killed by an Occupation member. It was sudden.”_

_Abel looks down gravely to the still body before looking back up, “Thank you for bringing him back.”_

_The male nods before him and his friends leave quietly, heads down in silence._

_Abel looks to the three quietly, before calmly picking up Bohdi._

_“Come inside.”_

_Nodding, Mara grabs Beck’s hand and gently leads him inside._

* * *

****

_The next day, it is raining when they head out to the graveyard._

_Abel had bought a plot of land, like custom, to set Bohdi on. But unlike customs, they were not given time to formalize a ceremony to set him into the afterlife, as tradition says. Too much stirs in the hearts of the orphan mechanics that they held a quiet, simple ceremony between themselves, quietly wishing him off with tears._

_And now, Beck stands in front of his friend’s final place, his nicest suit on him, raining chilling him to the bone. Not that he cared. He is still lost in the memories of what used to be._

_Abel looks up from consoling one of the younger children to see Beck staring at the grave, oblivious to the world around him. Abel sighs sadly, before walking out into the rain, opening his umbrella. He nods back for the others to go on home, before continuing up to Beck._

_Beck looks up when he realizes he no longer feels the rain. Looking up, he sees Abel holding the umbrella._

_Silently, Abel sets his hand on Beck’s shoulder and leads him home._

_Later, Beck sits by the window, watching the rain in silence._

_Linda, one of the younger girls in the orphanage, skips up to Beck, singing lightly. She doesn’t realize what has happened; she’s too young. So she looks up to Beck._

_“Beck, do you want to play dress-up with me?”_

_Beck looks to her for a moment before silently looking back out the window._

_“Beck?”_

_He’s silent._

_“Linda.”_

_Linda looks up to Abel._

_“Let’s leave Beck alone. I’ll play with you.”_

_Linda seems disappointed for a fraction of a second before breaking into a smile, “Ok!”_

_She grabs Abel’s hand and leads him into the other room._

_Beck stays where he is, not even bothering to bat an eye._

The picture freezes suddenly and Beck jumps, looking up to his captor.

_I forgot he was even there!_

He looks up at the headband, a memory projector to show what one desires, in slight annoyance. The weight of the headband has pulled his head down slightly, and he struggles to look up.

The captor is silent, emotionless according to his mask. His hands stay clasped behind his back, not an even a miniature sign of sympathy.

“You lost a friend.” His captor says finally, “You were angry. But it sounds like it was his own fault.”

Beck glares at him, “It was _CLU’s fault._ Before he sent Tesler and you goons here_” he gets no satisfaction of seeing the soldier tense; he stays as he is, “_everything was fine.”

The soldier was done listening. He pushes play and the memory continues.

But Beck isn’t done speaking.

 “But now, as it hit me I would never see Bohdi again, it became clear. I had to do something.”

_Beck sighs, stands, and walks to his room._

_There he pulls out Mara’s clothes making supplies and sets to work on his plan._

“You really thought one person could make a difference?”

_Finally he puts it all on, pulling his work goggles, and bandit-like mask. He stares at it in the mirror, proud of his work._

“Why not? One person already did….”

_The whole outfit is dark, with blue lines running up his legs and a familiar T shaped symbol on his chest._

“_Tron.”

_Smiling to himself, he pulls on his goggles and bandit-like mask. He grabs his dark jacket and zips it up halfway before pulling on his hood, making sure it would stay._

_Quietly, he opens his window and slips out into the rain. He grapples the roof before climbing down the side. He lands on his feet. He looks around quickly before holding his materials in his hands._

“I decided to take on his identity. Tron saved us before; maybe he could do it again.”

_He slips them onto the belt he brought before running over to the garage where the personal vehicles are held. He pulls out a bike, more than likely belonging to Abel.  As quietly as he can, he turns on the engine and drives towards a familiar spot._

_When he comes around the bend for the park, he can already see the numerous guards and tanks surrounding the area._

I had already expected this. Good thing I didn’t bet on just walking in.

_He pulls the bike around the corner and leaves it on silent stalling before slipping out from behind the wall in front of the park._

_Above him, lighting strikes the air and guards walk around the area and all tanks are aimed there, looking for any intruders._

_Quickly, he slips past the guards like a phantom and opens climbs up the back which is next to the wall._

With all the protection in the front, they don’t even bother with the back?!?

_Holding back a laugh, he scales the back of CLU until he arrives at his shoulder._

_He stands up and pulls off a dagger from his belt._

_But it’s not any ordinary dagger. He had been experimenting with the laser competition between the orphans when he figured out to make the laser he was given to merge with an object, which happened to be his dagger. He won a prize, at first._

_Then he was disqualified because it cut through the judge’s bike when his hand slipped._

_But his hand has been trained to it now, and steadily he kneels down and cuts a smooth line around the base of the statue’s neck._

_Without a care, he pushes the head off and it crashes to the ground. Then, he pulls off his secret weapon._

_He turns the dial and drops it inside, the bomb ticking as it falls. He looks down to see one of the guards notice the head and call his comrades over._

That’s my cue!

_Jumping down, he slides down the edge of the now headless CLU. He hears one of the guards call out in alarm as he runs past them._

_Skidding slightly, he grabs the handles of his bike once he clears the entrance. He pulls himself on and speeds off._

_He doesn’t get very far before he feels the heat sear his back as the statue explodes. Grinning to himself, he speeds off into the city as the alarms go out and tired citizens come from their homes to see the mushroom cloud._

_Not long afterwards, Beck looks back to see two bikers are now trailing him. Gritting his teeth, he speeds up and curves smoothly around the bend._

_He leads around the descending loop and leads the way out of the freeway of the city and into the dockyard roads._

_Smiling, he lets himself have a small victory._

“CLU’s forces didn’t deter you?”

Beck looks up at the soldier.

It strikes him odd, because the soldier wears CLU’s uniform, but doesn’t refer to himself as one.

Shaking his head from those thoughts, he answers:

“They tried, but they were amateurs. I’ve been riding the streets long before they came.”

_He carefully balances himself and stands on top of his motorcycle. Swinging himself slightly, he pushes off his bike and reaches out to grab the bar above him._

_He grabs onto it, but his hands slip and he finds himself falling again. His eyes widen under his goggles as he struggles to grab the next one. With a grunt, his hands clasp tightly onto the next one and he pulls himself up. His bike speeds off and continues until it collides with the biker that had been trying to stop him, causing an explosion. The second biker, seeing this, tries to stop but is too late as he crashes into the wreckage, adding to the damage, which resounds loudly in the street._

Abel’s not going to be happy if he founds out that I destroyed one of the bikes…

_After a couple moments, he sighs, “That was easy.”_

_He begins to pull himself up when the bike breaks. He falls to the ground with a grunt before getting to his feet tiredly, breathing hard._

_“Right. Now I can go home.” He mutters._

“None of that explains how you ended up alone. On the edge of the city.”

_He straightens his jacket around him when he hears something shift behind him._

_He turns to get a face full of foot, which connects with his neck, knocking him back into the wall. All he saw was the orange of a guard._

Beck winces and looks to the guard.

“Yeah. Turns out they weren’t _all_ amateurs.”

_Beck touches his neck in pain before looking up as he hears footsteps. He sees clearly now a cloaked guard with a uniform glass mask on. Calmly, the not-so-amateurish guard walks up and looks down on Beck. After a couple moments, they pull back their arm to punch him._

_In all honesty, it was a reflex that caused it. Beck instantly kicks out hitting the guard full in the face. Their head snaps back and the glass breaks. They look away for the quickest moment as they pull off their helmet. When the guard looks back, Beck’s eyes widen._

_The guard throws back their cape to show off_ her _flattering uniform and the weapons latched onto her. Her angry eyes penetrate him as she pulls out her knife._

_“Now_ that _was a mistake.”_

_Beck tenses and scoots back more, causing the guard to look skeptically to him. She drops her dagger arm to her side and watches him for a moment._

_“So you’re Tron? Hm, thought you would be taller.”_

_Beck jumps up as the guard lunges forward with her knife. She grunts when she misses. Beck uses the parts of the street to his advantage, landing far behind her. He grins in excitement for battle under his mask as he pulls out his own knife. After a couple moments, he begins to run towards her._

_“That’s it.” She mutters, before taking out her gun and firing at him._

_Beck quickly dodges and slides over the shot. But he runs into her, and she tackles him. She sighs and pulls out her knife, holding it above her, “What a waste.”_

_She lunges down but Beck grabs her arm and pulls it past his head, causing her to grow closer._

_She looks him directly in the face, “Huh, they usually don’t last this long.”_

_Her face holds questions, “Who are you?”_

_He lowers his voice and looks her in the eye, “You said it yourself.”_

_He knocks her knife out of her hand and tosses her over him into the wall._

_“I’m Tron!”_

_She grunts as she collides with the wall. Her hands go up to her temples and as she’s distracted, he stands and begins to run._

_She shakes her head before running after him._

_He begins to pant later as he runs through the alleyways of the docks. He sees a light following his trail and knows the guard is not on her own._

_Quickly, he turns down another way but gasps as he almost collides with a dead end._

_He turns around to head back but sees her coming._

Maybe I can blend…

_Then the light returns, just on him. He looks up to see a chopper is hovering above him._

_“Okay, this is a problem.”_

_The guard walks smoothly up towards him, “There you are.”_

_He widens his stance, “Here I am.”_

_Out of the shadows, two more gang members come forward, pulling out their guns._

_“Chase is over.” The guard says, aiming her own gun at him._

_“Not yet.” He grins._

_He runs forward and jumps up._

_BANG  
The shot goes over his shoulder as he jumps off the shoulders of the members. He jumps from each side of the wall until he pulls himself up onto the crates._

_With only a moments hesitation, he begins to run._

_Until, that is, when he reaches the edge of the dockyard._

_Gasping slightly, he turns to run another direction when the guard jumps up on the other side of the crate he’s standing on, her gun still aimed at him._

_“How long are you going to keep running?”_

_He feels the heat of the light on his back and he turns to see the chopper is right behind him. His gaze switches between the guard and the chopper as he comes up with an idea._

_“I’m done.” He calls, running towards the chopper, “My ride’s here.”_

_He jumps and barely jumps onto the edge of the chopper. Carefully, he pulls himself to his feet and comes up behind the guard._

_The guard is looking at the controls as he tries to keep balance. Beck grabs his head and slams it into the joystick, which snaps sideways under the pressure._

_Throwing the now unconscious guard off to the side, he sits down with wide eyes as the chopper begins to tilt. Instantly, his hand shoots down to his belt and he can feel the shape of the wrench. He pulls it out, and tilts the joystick back to its original position and tightens the new hold and wiring._

_“Thanks Bohdi.” He mutters, putting it on the control board._

_Carefully, he grips the joystick, “Here goes nothing.”_

_He turns it and the chopper rights itself._

_“Nice!”_

_He looks up as he sees a familiar figure in the reflection of the glass, her dagger poised to kill._

_Quickly, he jumps out of the way as the dagger lunges down where his head had been moments ago. He turns and grabs her wrists and pushes her against the wall._

_“You know,” she spits, “this isn’t yours!”_

_She knocks him off his feet as the chopper grazes a building. The alarms begin to go off as Beck’s back slams against the ground. She lands on top of him and he grunts as he attempts to look her in the eyes._

_Her voice is suddenly seductive. She leans closer to him, her hand going to the back of his head._

_“I can’t wait to see what you’ve got_”_

_He feels her hand grab the cloth of his hood and part of his hair. Quickly, he flips over, now on top. Her grip gives way immediately and he grabs her arms, keeping them pinned to her sides._

_“Maybe we should slow things down; get to know each other better.”_

_She looks up to him, her expression torn between anger and fake pride._

_“Congratulations.”_

_He tenses,_ this was a change.

_“Maybe you should work for me; we’d make quite a team.”_

_He leans forward, “I don’t like your boss.”_

_He leans back and begins to slowly pull off his dagger, “Maybe you should work for me.”_

_She frowns, seeing his movement, “Sorry. Don’t see a future in that.”_

_She twists slightly and pulls her leg back to kick him in the chest. He flies back and hits his back on the control board._

_He looks back to see the chopper head towards a building. He jumps up and directs the joystick away, puts away his weapons and dodges as she tries to stab him again._

_He falls back slightly, unbalanced. Seeing this, she kicks him in the chest and flies out the side._

_Precariously, he grabs the side of the chopper, hoping his grip will hold him up. One of his hands gropes on his belt for something when he feels it._

_He pulls on the handle and aims the gun he stole from the woman at the engine. With one shot, part of the control over the wings falls off, resulting in no direction._

_He throws the gun down over the barren ground before pulling himself up._

_He sees her, working to maintain control._

_She turns as she sees him._

_SMACK._

_She falls back out of the seat into the side of the chopper._

_Beck picks up his wrench, and gives it a lucky spin._

_“That was fun. We should do this again.”_

_She rubs her temple as she gets to her feet to go after._

_But it’s too late._

_He’s already gone._

* * *

 

Paige P.O.V.

Sighing, Paige leans over her desk, sketching out a depiction of what she saw. After a few moments of being stumped on his outfit, she lies down her head as she goes back to a memory from earlier.

_As the chopper limped into the port, she strained to bring it down safely. After a couple moments of landing, she stepped out of the chopper and walked towards General Tesler, her frustration obvious to her superior and the ones below her alike._

_“Paige…” Tesler, a large, gruff kind of a man, started, “You’re empty handed. That’s unexpected.”_

_She stopped in front of him, her anger slipping into her voice slightly._

_“He’s good…but he’s no Tron.”_

_“You seem…uncertain about that.” He looked to her as she continued past him._

_She kept her glare hidden as she said, “You heard CLU. Tron’s dead.”_

_She felt herself smirk as she continued, “And soon….this ‘renegade’ will be, too.”_

_He grinned at that, “Excellent.”_

* * *

 

Beck P.O.V.

The memory cuts off abruptly as the guard rips the memory projector off his head. Beck’s shoulders and neck seem to let go of their screams and they subsided into sighs.

Beck looks up to the guard as he says, “You know this evidence makes you an enemy to the State.”

He pulls out the copy end and sticks it on his belt loop before throwing the rest into the darkness with a CLANK.

Beck glares at him, “The State is the enemy, not me.”

Carefully behind his back, he slips a pin out of his sleeve to the tip of his hand. While the guard was watching his memories, he was able to sneak it out of his belt, and is now working to unlock himself.

“I see what you’re trying to do.”

Beck freezes his work as the guard watches him for a moment.

“You can dress up like Tron all you want.” He says finally and Beck looks down to his homemade outfit in mock surprise, “But he’s still dead.”

Beck looks his captor straight in the eye, “That’s what they tell us.”

He feels the pin lock in place with the inside lock.

His captor walks to the other side of him and he adjusts his hand so the pin can’t be seen. But the guard turns with his back to him and he continues.

“Why do you want people to think that Tron is alive?”

“Well maybe he is.” Beck says as he feels the hand cuffs clink free and he quickly bends down to his legs, “And if others think so, they may be more hopeful and actually fight back instead of letting CLU walk all over them.”

The guard looks back, his hand sliding down to the gun on his waist.

“You really think that if they believe Tron’s alive it will start a revolution?”

The chains clink off Beck’s legs, “I know it will.”

Immediately, he lunges towards the guard, knocking the advancing gun out of his hands. He uses his other hand to throw a punch but the guard dodges quicker than he can blink.

“We won’t be intimidated.” Beck calls, turning to see the guard was behind him. With a grunt, he continues trying to hit him. “I don’t care how strong or powerful your forces are.”

The guard dodges as he says that. He turns to find him when the guard slips his arm around Beck’s neck, “You should.” He flips Beck over him and he crashes to the ground.

“Because your actions have consequences.”

Beck gets to his feet in anger and attacks him again, “So does _inaction._ Or slavery. Or friends of mine _fallen!_ ”

The guard grabs his arm suddenly as he swings and pulls him in, his elbow meeting Beck’s neck. He lets out a hoarse cry of pain as the guard watches him, “And nothing I say will stop you?”

Beck looks up at him, breathing through his teeth, “I won’t stop fighting.”

_“Fool!”_

The guard’s slap to Beck’s face seems to say that, followed by a push and he stumbles back. He’s rebalancing when the guard takes advantage of his vulnerable moment and kicks him in the stomach. Beck lets out a yell as he falls back to the ground. He pushes himself up to his knees when he feels something brush his leg. Without thinking, he picks it up as he gets to his feet. Looking around, he sees no one.

Yet he turns and he sees a flash of red. Letting out a gasp, he closes his eyes and tenses as he feels the air rush by. Cautiously, he looks down to see a dagger is angled at his neck to kill, but just inches away from doing the deed.

“Even if it means you’ll be killed this instant?” The guard finally says, giving him the big question.

_Live or die?_

Controlling himself, he looks up, “If it means others will take up my cause….”

He clicks the safety off the gun as he points it at the guard’s head.

“So be it. Now step aside. Let me out.”

Even with a gun pointed to his head, the guard remains stone-like.

“No.”

“Then this is the end of _both_ of us.” Beck rests his finger on the trigger.

“You won’t hurt me.”

_Arrogant much?_

He laughs darkly, “I wouldn’t be so certain about that. But humor me, what makes you so sure?”

The guard pulls away his knife from Beck’s neck but Beck keeps the gun trained on the soldier as he watches the guard put his knife in his belt in confusion.

“Because…” the guard reaches up towards his mask, “You were right about one thing.”

He uses one hand to rid of the long, dark red cloak he had worn to show a uniform of snow white. He drops it to the side before pulling off the helmet to show a scarred face that is familiar to all.

“I’m not dead.” Tron says finally.

The gun clatters to the ground out of Beck’s grip. He pulls his hand back with a gasp.

“Tron…”

Tron nods, and Beck smiles.

“I was right! You’re alive! And….and you’re here to help us!”

Tron’s head bows, “No….I’m here because….I _need_ help_”

“What?” Beck looks to him oddly.

_Why would the great Tron ever need help?!?  
_ “_ from someone who’s committed.” Tron continues, “And I think _you_ may be _just_ what I’m looking for.”

“…what are you looking for?” Beck asks uncertainly.

Tron puts a hand on his shoulder, “The next Tron.”

Beck’s eyes widen and he looks to the hero of his dreams in shock.

“What? Why?”

Tron walks past him and to the door, “Come.”

With only a second’s hesitation, he follows the warrior out of the room.

The next room is much brighter and a large computer sits in the back wall facing the room they left. And on the wall to the side, a large window overlooks the Outlands and city in the distance while inside, a couple chairs sit in one part of the room.

Tron walks over and sits in a chair and Beck sits across from him cautiously, still shocked and confused.

Tron leans forward slightly and laces his fingers underneath his chin.

“Tell me Beck….how long have you been hearing about CLU’s takeover?”

Beck looks down in thought at this.

“I don’t know…it’s been so long….”

“As long as you can remember?”

Beck nods, “About fourteen years. I’m seventeen now.”

“What do you remember hearing about?”

Beck looks to him, “Cities were captured, people were hunted, and….CLU reigned.”

“Beck, there’s a war raging. You’re one of the few people who have noticed; most don’t even know its happening. CLU and his forces have taken over every city in our homeland.”

Beck looks down.

_You don’t have to remind me._

“Now, thanks to you, we can bring the fight to him.”

Beck looks up in shock, “Me? What do you mean me? What do I do?”

Tron straightens, “You’re special. I saw what you did back there. You have a gift!”

“A-A gift?” Beck gets to his feet and turns from him, “I’m an okay mechanic. _That’s_ my gift.”

Beck turns to Tron, “You see, that thing with the statue….”

He stops for a moment, looking down.

_What was it?_

Covering up his hesitance, he shakes his head, “….it was nothing. It’s a one-time deal.”

Tron gets to his feet and comes towards him, “It’s a _revolution_ , Beck! You must finish what’s begun!”

Beck glares at him, fumbling for excuses, “Why can’t you finish it? _You_ were Flynn’s captain!”

“Don’t you think I want to?!?” Tron snaps and Beck takes a step back. Tron looks down and speaks softer, “I can’t.”

“Why?” Beck whispers.

Tron hesitantly lifts his shirt up to his abdomen. There, a long scar runs up, angry red, surrounded by almost invisible scars. Beck looks at it with wide eyes.

“It continues to my heart.” Tron tucks his shirt back in, “But CLU betrayed me, left me with scars that will never heal.”

Tron looks directly at him and Beck notices that one scar runs through his left eye, which is milky-white.

“He took everything from me, Beck. Everything but my name. It’s all that I have left.”

_That’s terrible._

“I need _you_ to help me carry on that name. Show everything, that as long as Tron lives, there is still hope.”

Beck breaks his strangely fascinated trance and looks away from Tron’s face.

“I’m sorry.”

Tron tenses.

Beck looks up, sorrow in his eyes, “But what I did….I-I don’t know why I did it. B-but I’m not special. I’m just like everyone else.”

Tron’s searching look makes Beck feel as if he were truly searching his mind and soul.

“Do you _truly_ believe that?”

Beck looks away, “…Yeah.”

Tron turns and begins to walk away.

“Then the war is already lost.” He says hollowly.

Guilt stabs at Beck as he watches the seasoned warrior go.

“I’m really sorry_”

“Just go home.” Tron says, stopping at the doorway, not looking back, “Take one of the bikes and go home.”

And like that, he’s gone.


	4. Chapter Three- Return of a Renegade

Beck climbs through the window as the sun reaches over the horizon. Sighing, he collapses on his bed, looking at the ceiling tiredly.

_Did last night happen?_

He bends forward to look at his outfit and sure enough, everything was there: from the goggles on his neck to the shoes on his feet.

He sighs as he hurriedly switches out of the costume (so no one will walk in to see him in it), and throws it in the back of his closet. Pulling on his T-shirt, he creeps over to his bed and flops onto it, looking to the sky again.

_I really met Tron…_

_And he asked me to join him._

He feels excitement bubble inside him, but he pushes it down.

_No, I can’t. Besides, I already said no._

He frowns as he remembers looking at the scars on Tron’s body.

_CLU did all of that?_

_How…._

His thoughts drift away.

* * *

 

He jerks awake to a knock at the door. The sun is shining brightly now and he rubs his eyes.

“Beck!” Abel calls.

Beck fumbles with the covers before stumbling to the door and opening it.

“Yeah?”

Abel does not look happy to see him.

“Where have you been? I didn’t find you in here at all last night!”

“I-I….” Beck rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of an excuse other than ‘meeting the hero who was supposedly dead after I blew something up’ gig.

Abel puts him out of his misery, “Forget it. Get dressed and get to the Garage. Something’s happening.”

Beck frowns as Abel leaves him before closing the door. Obeying, he pulls on his garage uniform before running across the street to the Garage.

He slows, though, when he sees red tanks and cars parked outside of it.

_What’s going on?_

He comes to the doorway and the guards notice him.

“This way.” They grab him roughly and he tenses, going from bewildered to ready to fight.

“Finally,” his stomach drops as _her_ voice reaches his ears. Sure enough, he looks up and sees her look to him.

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

_Do they know?_

They push him to the ground with a grunt and he looks up.

“Great.” He says dryly, “Now I _really_ feel special.”

She glares at him like he’s the pest buzzing around her head, “Don’t flatter yourself; this isn’t just for you, it’s for everyone.”

She looks to the gathered crowd of orphans and mechanics, “I am Commander Paige and I am here to tell you that what happened last night is nothing short of sedition.”

Everyone whispers among themselves as Zed and Mara help Beck to his feet.

Commander Paige picks up a poster and shows it to everyone; a well drawn description of Beck’s reckless manner.

“If you know this man, turn him in.”

“It looks like Tron.” Someone says not-so-quietly and Beck feels the rock push him farther into the hard place.

Commander Paige looks to the person with a suddenly narrowed eye, “As long as he’s free….you won’t be.”

She walks towards the mechanics, “I’m here to announce that _Tesler_ is bringing the games to Argon.”

Everyone gasps and someone lets out a whispered, “ _What?”_

The commander ignores them, “Over the course of the next few days, we will be rounding up _volunteers_ ,” she looks directly at Beck, “Until this _impostor_ is apprehended.”

She turns away, “Now. Back to work.”

The soldiers about-face and leave as the mutterings grow and the mechanics disperse.

Beck frowns, rolls up his sleeves, and walks over to an abandoned work-in-progress. He picks up his wrench off his belt, gives it a lucky spin, and sets to work.

But before he can reach his hand in to fix the obvious issue, a familiar hand grabs his wrist, sending a shock message through his body.

Commander Paige pulls Beck up to where he is standing straight, glaring at him for the truth, “Where’d you get that?”

Beck glances feverishly between the wrench and her, “Uh…”

“He got it from the cabinet where we keep all the tools.” Abel says suddenly, pulling open the drawer for her to see.

She glances to it and throws down his wrist, “Back to it.” She walks away.

Beck turns. “Nice to meet you.” he calls to her.

“I see the feeling is mutual.” Zed mutters, barely looking up from his work. Beck smirks at him.

“Alright everyone.” Abel calls, calming down the muttering, “The soldiers are gone, let’s get back to work.”

Abel throws him a _‘we’ll talk later’_ look and Beck internally sighs as he sets back to the engine.

* * *

 

Its a couple days later after their shift as Zed mutters under his breath, “Last night of freedom…”

After a moment, he clears his throat and speaks up to his friends as they hang out in a corner of the garage.

“This Renegade, Tron, whoever the heck he is; he’s causing a lot of problems!”

Mara sighs and shakes her head as Beck looks up from his thoughts.

“Well maybe,” Beck says, “he’s trying to help. Look at what they did to Bohdi.”

“But now they’re going to do it to all of us, because of _him!_ ”

Beck looks away, internally cringing.

 _It may have been a one-time deal, but this isn’t_ my _fault._

_Well, not all of it._

“I think he’s brave.” Mara says finally.

Beck looks back up to her as Zed asks, “Really?”

He looks away as they walk towards the front, “He seems like a coward, hiding out, not showing his face, letting _us_ suffer.”

“He’s fighting _for_ us.” Mara snaps back before Beck can think of anything.

Mara looks to the poster on one of the walls, “And he’s kinda handsome.”

_What?_

Beck fights the heat he feels threatening to cover his face.

“Handsome?!?” Zed sputters, “How do you know? He’s in a mask! Besides, that’s just a drawing!”

Beck had to agree with Zed at this point. He never once, ever, thought of himself as _handsome._ It was just too laughable.

“I have a feeling.” Mara sighs, cheeks burning slightly.

“What do you think, Beck?” Zed turns to him.

Beck’s thrown off by the sudden attention.

“Is he handsome?” He jokes quickly but neither smile.

“Is he on our side?” Zed says in frustration, muttering under his breath as he leaves.

Mara sighs, “ _Zed…_ ”

She grabs Beck’s arm and pulls him along, “C’mon Zed.”

“Zed!”

“Beck!”

They all stop as Beck looks to Abel, who’s in his office.

“May I speak with you?”

_So that time is now…_

Beck sighs, nods, “Go on without me, guys. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Zed and Mara wave goodbye and leave.

Sighing, Beck enters the office and quietly sits in the seat across from him.

After a couple moments of silence, Abel leans forward.

“Beck…did you have _anything_ to do with that statue being destroyed?”

“No,” Beck lies quickly, trying to control the conviction inside, “I was just out for a walk.”

“All night?”

Beck nods, “I had lost track of time.”

He leans back, “I needed some time alone. I was upset, about Bohdi.”

“I know.” Abel says gently, “We’re all upset about Bohdi. But we can’t dwell on what happened. And _you certainly_ can’t act on those feelings.”

Beck nods as a truck rumbles by.

“With the Occupation gang here, we all need to be more careful. Things have changed….”

Beck nods, “Don’t worry. It won’t happen_”

He’s cut off as an alarm begins to go off, signaling danger.

His eyes widen as he runs out of the office, Abel following him. He skids to a stop at the edge of the garage to see a whole armada of trucks outside the garage and Orphanage and he feels his heart stop as he sees the soldiers pulling children out of the Orphanage, screaming and kicking.

“Attention.” A gruff voice calls and everyone tries to back away from the tall man on top of one of the trucks.

“I am General Tesler.”

Beck retains a skeptical laugh.

_They think they’re an army._

“I am here to announce that you are now volunteering for the Games.”

Guards surround them as they protest.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” He finishes, smirking darkly.

Beck narrows his eyes and begins to step forward when Abel throws a hand out in front of Beck and he stops.

In the distance, he sees Commander Paige go up to her superior.

 _Probably to congratulate him._ Beck thinks bitterly.

* * *

 

Paige P.O.V.

“TESLER!”

She storms up to her superior, too angry to be afraid.

He turns to her, only slightly irked.

Probably because Pavel was standing next to him, looking completely angry.

“I thought they had more time.” Paige says, putting her hands on her hips.

“They would have, but I decided to move up the schedule. If you had done your job,” Paige lifts a skeptical eyebrow as Tesler seems to get angrier, “none of this would have been necessary.”

Paige sighs angrily and turns around, pushing past her inferiors, and blocking out the yelling of the crowd before she exploded on anyone.

* * *

 

Beck P.O.V.

Beck watches the commander storm off in confusion. Shaking his head and forgetting about her, his attention is turned to someone screaming. His head snaps to the source and he sees Linda scream as one of the guards pulls her away from Zed and Mara.

“NO!” Linda screams, still clutching her bear.

Zed sees him. He pushes against the guards, “Beck! BECK! Help us!”

Beck begins to go towards him, but the guards near him push him back. He fights them, yelling words he had trouble hearing through the chaos at them.

Abel grabs him and roughly pulls him back. His friends disappear into one of the trucks.

“No!”

“Beck!”

He looks back to Abel.

“Come back inside. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”

“But_”

“ _Now._ ”

He looks back to the trucks taking away his friends.

_I really didn’t want to do this again but…._

As Abel leaves him, he glances around, making sure no one sees him. Once he’s clear, he sprints across the street and through the Orphanage door. He bounds up the stairs quickly and pulls the door open to his room.

Luckily, unlike the rest of the building, his room had been left untouched, just like the way he left it. Barely taking time to let out a sigh of relief, he opens the door to his closet and begins to dig through it.

“Where is it?” He mutters, digging through the clothes on the floor of his closet. He finally finds the shirt and pulls the rest of the pile out. Quickly, he slips it on before grabbing his bandanna and goggles off his shelf. He slips his goggles on and ties his mask tight before flipping on his hood. Once again, he slips through his window and grabs another bike from the shed. Starting it, he grins as he takes off after the trucks.

* * *

 

Zed P.O.V.

“Somebody help us!” He yells, fighting the guards. One of them hits him on the head and he sees stars. Taking advantage of this, they push him to the ground.

“Be quiet!”  
He gets back up to charge at them when they slam the door shut. Zed sighs as he places his hand against the door.

The truck jerks to a start and Zed stumbles slightly, looking around to find Mara.

He sees her, holding a trembling Linda in her arms, calming her down. Quietly, he sits down next to them.

“Why didn’t Beck save us? He promised he would always save me.” Linda says, tears in her eyes.

Zed struggles to remember when his friend said this when he remembers: Beck was her favorite playmate. He was often the prince to save her, or the monster she had to stop. He must’ve said something and she took it literally.

“I’m sure he tried.” Mara says softly to her, “He must have been stopped by one of the bad guys.”

“He’ll come for us.” Linda says certainly, then looks for reassurance up to Mara, “Right?”

Mara exchanges a look with Zed.

_Don’t tell her._

Zed nods.

She looks back to Linda, stroking her cheek, “I hope so. I certainly hope so.”

* * *

 

Beck P.O.V.

Beck grunts as he passes through one of the back ways, trying to keep the long line of trucks in sight. He goes up one of the bridges, just above the line of trucks. Narrowing his eyes, he takes no hesitation in jumping the edge of the bridge.

The bike takes an unsteady landing on top of one of the trucks. It slides onto its side and Beck rolls off as it falls off into the median next to them. With a yell, he grabs onto the side, trying to hold on.

He sighs and pulls himself up…

Only to be punched in the face by a soldier. Beck falls back from the elite-marked soldier. The soldier pulls out his dagger and Beck does the same before charging at the soldier. The warrior dodges with a yell before lunging back as well. Back and forth, they copy each other. Until Beck servers the oxygen line that connects to him mask. Gasping, he throws off his mask, the mike bending down away from his face of foreign features.  He narrows his eyes before charging again. Beck ducks the signs that suddenly plague his view. The soldier jumps and dodges them gracefully as Beck nearly trips over one near his feet. He jumps back as the soldier nearly clips him with his knife. Finally, he’s kicked to the ground. He struggles to get up as the soldier stands over him.

Suddenly, his eyes widen at what comes into his view. He slides off and grabs onto the side. The soldier turns and he noticeably tenses at the incoming low tunnel. Quickly, he presses against the roof as the truck enters the tunnel. Beck presses closer to the side of the train, panting as he tries not to hit the wall. The guard notices and pulls something off his belt. He activates it and sticks it on the side of the car, next to Beck’s face.

_Crap!_

He grits his teeth as they leave the tunnel and he climbs up quickly. He gets to his feet quickly and begins to run, the guard in front of him.

The bomb explodes and he’s thrown off his feet into the guard. They tumble down and land on either side of a link connecting two trucks.

_What’s this doing here?_

Immediately, he opens his laser dagger and pulls it up, looking down. The soldier’s eyes widen and he freezes in fear. Breathing hard, he looks down and levels his eyesight, making sure he didn’t hit anything else.

He lunges down.

The soldier closes his eyes and holds his arms in front of his face when he hears something clink apart. Looking down, he sees the link holding the two trucks together is destroyed. He looks up as Beck stands shakily on the front of the truck.

“Wait!” The soldier calls as Beck moves to the side to open the door, “Why would you spare me?”

_Because I don’t want to kill you._

But Beck doesn’t answer. He just climbs in the driver’s seat, flips out of auto drive, and stops the truck on the side of the road.

“WHY?”

Beck ignores him as he stops the engine. Slamming the door behind him, he gets out and uses his laser dagger to open the door by force. He puts it away and pulls the doors open, pushing up his goggles.

He sighs at the empty compartment, “Wrong car.”

He steps around the side to see the line of trucks continue on. He slams the doors shut and runs back up to the front. He climbs on and restarts the truck. As soon as the engine turns over, he pulls out of park and speeds after them.

In the distance, he sees the large stadium they used to use for ball games, now lit up orange. Gritting his teeth, he moves over to the side of the line as they enter a larger tunnel than before. He presses his foot harder against the gas pedal and the engine thrums in response. He makes his way past the front and a couple yards in front of them.

The end of the tunnel is near.

_Now!_

He jackknifes the truck, turning in front of the truck. He tenses, moving to the passenger side, and jumping out. He runs as he hears the truck make contact with the front. He stops and looks back as the trucks connected crash into the back of the one in front of them, skidding to a stop. He relaxes until he sees guards pour out of the trucks to find him.

He fades into the shadows and slips past the guards. He opens the back randomly to one of the trucks. All the containers inside lay on their sides and that’s all inside.

Beck narrows his eyes, crosses the truck off his mental list, and continues on.

He opens the next truck to find it empty when something clicks behind him. He freezes as he feels the barrel of a gun poke the back of his head. Slowly, he puts his hands up in surrender as his stomach jolts in fear and defeat.

_So much for saving my friends. No, instead I’m going to die!_

“I know where they are.” A deep voice says suddenly.

Beck tenses, “What?”

He looks back as the gun is removed to see the soldier from earlier put it away.

“Your friends.” He says, looking up, “I know where they are.”

“Where?” He asks, trying not to sound desperate.

“Front truck. Hurry! The others will be back soon.”

Beck follows the soldier to the first truck, the front and back slightly dented.

“Here.” The soldier whispers.

Sighing, he pulls out his laser dagger and sticks it into the metal. Quickly, he makes a door way.

_I hope he’s not messing with me._

He pulls the doors open and sure enough, his friends sit inside, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Everyone! Leave now!”

Without hesitation, they all jump up and leave.

That is, all except one.

Poking his head back in to make sure, he sees a familiar figure stumbling out.

_Linda._

He comes in and picks her up, “What are you doing in here? We need to move!”

Before she can answer, he runs out with her, catching up with the crowd.

He spots his friends near the front and comes up to them.

“I believe you forgot someone.”

Mara turns and gasps, “Linda! There you are! Come here.” She holds out her hands.

Beck tries to hand her over but Linda holds tight to his jacket. Beck tries again.

“Wait!” she says and before Beck can blink, she kisses him on the nose.

“Thank you Tron!” She says, before going over to Mara.

Beck mentally shakes himself and nods, “You’re welcome.”

The soldier leads them out of the tunnel and Beck stands next to him at the edge, watching everyone go.

“Move! MOVE!”

“C’mon, keep it moving!”

He sees Mara look back to him before Zed pulls her away. Quickly, they are all gone, leaving the two alone.

“Thank you for that.” he says.

“It was the least I could do.” The soldier replies, “Thank you_”

He’s cut off by a scream and a gunshot. Beck turns with wide eyes to see the soldier fall to the ground, dead.

Beck turns to see a familiar figure put his gun away as he steps off one of the trucks. Beck tenses as Tesler lands right in front of him. Now that Tesler is more than a voice down the street, Beck can see that his arms seem…fake, metallic. Tesler pants in anger as he clenches his fists. They seem to glow slightly before they rise in color and force, knocking back his cloak. Beck straightens in shock.

_Whoa._

“I don’t like the _effect_ you’re having on my people.”

Beck doesn’t answer, but tenses as Tesler begins to walk towards him. He throws off his cloak before he lunges, causing Beck to stumble back. He throws his own missing hit before flipping over Tesler. His arm meets his fist, sending a tingling feeling up it. Tesler pulls back his fist and before Beck can jump back, punches him _hard_.

Beck grunts as he hits one of the trucks. Like peeling off paper, he falls to the ground, groaning in pain.

He gets to his feet as Tesler comes towards him.

“Who do you think you are? Tron?”

“Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.” Beck snaps back,  pulling out his dagger and lunging forward. Tesler dodges him and Beck comes back around. Tesler hand meets it so Beck’s dagger bounces off and he stumbles back. He looks down to see the soldier’s gun had slipped out of his belt.

_This is for you._

He picks it up and fires at Tesler. It bounces off Tesler’s arm and Beck dodges it. Standing straight again, he aims the gun again at him.

“You’re no Tron.” Tesler says, flipping a switch on his wrist, “You’re nothing!”

Suddenly, he reaches out, his hand continuing on towards him. Beck gasps and ducks, dropping the gun. Tesler’s hand goes right above him and quickly returns.

Tesler reaches out his other hand and Beck’s not as lucky. Tesler’s hand grabs him and pushes through the wall into an in progress building right next to the tunnel. When the blurs stop and calm down, Beck has his back to a beam, his head pinned to it by Tesler’s hand. Beck tenses, struggling and Tesler drops him. He drops to the ground, pain racing through his neck and back. He slowly stands, rubbing his neck and looking back to Tesler warily.

Big mistake.

Tesler notices him and lunges his arm at him again. Beck ducks, but begins to run when he sees Tesler pulling himself up by pushing a button on his arm.

Up he climbs, panting as he tries to get away from Tesler.

As he’s climbing, he nearly falls when Tesler’s arm shoots past him. Sighing, he continues as his other arm shoots past him.

Finally, he climbs through some of the beams and ends up at the top. Panting slightly, he runs as Tesler burst out of the top, barely missing the beam. He lands forcefully on the beam and walks calmly towards him as Beck runs towards the edge. He has to stop so hears Tesler’s words.

“You think you’re helping them but trust me, you’re only making things more painful.”

Beck glances back to the flowing river below as he turns back to Tesler, “Those people I saved might disagree.”

Tesler smirks “Look out there.”

Beck obeys and sees the very outline of the many trucks prowling the streets, hunting people from the safety of their homes.

“I have _dozens_ of cars out there, rounding up people as we speak. You can’t save them all!”

_You don’t have to point it out._

Beck glares at him as hears a chopper behind him. He turns back and sure enough, the glare of the chopper light meets him.

Tesler charges at him, ready to kill.   
Beck smirks under his mask, kneels down, and pulls out his laser dagger.

“Watch me.”

The beam breaks under one stab. Both enemies fall down, down, past the construction.

Beck grunts painfully as his chest hits an outside bar. Tesler falls past him and in a desperate attempt, he lunges out with his arms.

They make a mark, latching around Beck’s neck and pulling him forward, almost stabbing himself with his dagger.

Tesler jerks to a stop. Looking down to the river, he looks back up in triumph, “This isn’t over.”

Beck grits his teeth in pain.

_Yes….it is._

He tightens his hold on his dagger and swipes hard against Tesler’s arms. They slice apart under his might and Tesler’s eyes widen.

Like a broken marionette he falls, the strings cut by a careless child. Beck watches with fading pain as Tesler plops into the dark river below, being pulled away by the current.

_It’s over._

With a sigh from that thought, he begins to climb down.

_There’s someone I need to see now._

* * *

 

Paige P.O.V.

Paige grips the side of the chopper as they pull up beside the river, pointing the light at the darkness.

Everyone saw him fall into the river after the reckless renegade cut off his arms.

Now, she narrows her eyes.

_Where is he?_

There. A large shape in the water.

Paige reaches down and grabs her general by the armpit. She helps him into the chopper and to his feet.

“Told you.” She says as she helps him up, smirking.

Tesler rips out of her grip, a glower on his face.

“Wipe that smirk off your face and _find him_.” He hisses.

“Yes sir.”

Her smugness disappears as she turns and watches the city return to it’s calmness she now realizes is a dangerous façade.

* * *

 

Beck P.O.V.

Beck watches the city from Tron’s window next to the hero himself, not in his memorable white suit, but a common jeans and T-shirt. It surprised him; he never thought of the great legend ever wearing anything else.

Yet here he is.

“I want to do this.” He says finally.

He remembers seeing Linda’s face turn from fear to happiness as he had saved her and the rush of feeling he felt when his friends had seen him as Tron.

“No, I _have_ to do this.” He looks to Tron.

“I’m ready.”

Tron seems to straighten, but he turns and gives Beck the searching glare.

“No, you’re not. Wait here.”

He walks out of the room and Beck stays where he is as he was told. Moments later, Tron comes into the room, holding a box.

“Go in the other room. Put it on.”

“What_”

He stops at Tron’s stern look, “Just down the hall is the bathroom.”

Beck nods and turns around as he looks into the box.

_Whoa._

* * *

 

Minutes later, Beck comes back in the other room, looking down in shock at _Tron’s old uniform,_ still white and the glass helmet in the box he’s holding.

Tron smirks, an unusual sight.

“Come.”

Beck looks up.

“We have a lot of work to do…. _Tron_.”

Beck smiles as he sets down the box and follows Tron to his new start and for the first time since Bohdi’s death, he walks tall.


	5. Chapter Four- Rise of the Renegade

 “This isn’t a game, Beck!”

Beck tries to balance himself on his bike as Tron rams into him before accelerating.

_Yeah. Thanks for the tip, Tron._

Concentrating again, he speeds after Tron, catching up with him.

_When Tron said I needed to train, I thought he meant hand-to-hand combat. Not….this._

“Jump.” Tron says suddenly, speeding up again.

Beck’s thrown off guard, throwing himself out of his thoughts.

“Jump?”

But Tron doesn’t answer, as he’s already ahead of Beck. Beck speeds ahead of him and sees the large canyon ahead.

His eyes widen and he quickly decelerates. Tron speeds past him.

“WE CAN’T MAKE THAT!”

Sighing, he accelerates again after Tron when it’s obvious the legend had ignored him.

Tron curves up the side of smooth rock and speeds out over the canyon. He seems to glide slowly in mid-air before landing gracefully on the other side. He looks back to Beck.

Beck narrows his eyes.

_C’mon, Beck. If he made it, then you can._

He misses the side wall and juts out over it. He seems to slowly lose height and horror sinks in.

_I wasn’t going fast enough!_

He stands on his bike and jumps out with a yell.

His hand barely grabs the edge as his bike hits the canyon wall and disappears. Grunting, he looks back up, trying to find help or just a way _up_.

Beck pants as he swings his other arm up. Grunting, he pulls himself and rests his forearm on the edge.

Big mistake.

The ground breaks under his arm. He loses his grip and lets out a yell as he falls.

He stops suddenly when someone grabs his wrist.

“You know what you did wrong, Beck?” Tron says, leaning over him in a mask-covered emotion.

“Yeah.” Beck calls sarcastically, grabbing onto the cliff edge and pulling himself up, “I followed you.”

Tron pretends to not hear his comment as he stands.

“You hesitated.”

He pops off his helmet, “I didn’t.”

Beck sighs and sits down on one of the rocks. Tron leans against his bike, waiting for Beck to speak.

After a long moment, Beck looks up and speaks.

“How can I be the next Tron when I can’t even keep up with the real one?”

“These things take time.” Tron replies, “It’s your first training session. You must remember that before victory, there _will_ be setbacks.”

“No one’s gonna believe I’m you.” Beck continues, ignoring Tron.

He stands and paces slightly.

“To them, I’m just a….wannabe renegade.”

“You need to have faith in yourself.”

“Easy for you to say!” Beck snaps back, putting his hands on his hips, “You were Flynn’s captain for _years!_ I’ve spent my whole life tuning up engines.”

“You’re more than just a mechanic, Beck.”

Beck looks down at Tron’s words.

Deep inside, he feels, he _knows_ Tron is right.

 _No_ , he corrects himself, _he’s not._

“You surpassed what was expected of you. You stood for what you believed in, _all on your own._ The uprising needs a hero like you.”

Beck sighs, “What uprising? It’s just you and me out here.”

Tron lifts his chin slightly to look up at him, a critical gaze watching Beck, “Aren’t you the one that said others will follow? That the revolution will spread if we ignite the spark?”

Beck scoffs and gestures to himself as he walks forward, “Oh, you’re listening to _me now?_ ”

He points, “I almost plunged into the bottom of a canyon!”

He clears his throat, “I don’t think I’m cut out to _inspire_ anyone. Sorry.”

“Beck!”

He stops, “ _What?”_

“…Your bike.” Tron says after a moment, “We’ll need to get it out next time, understand?”

_If I do come back._

He sighs, “Right.”

“Take mine for now.” Tron says, walking towards the canyon.

Beck turns to Tron’s bike and turns back to reply when he sees Tron is not there.

* * *

 

By the time he nears town, it is dark outside. His headlights are on as he braves the snowy ground.

But his driving is merely auto. In all honesty, he is deep in his thoughts.

_How can Tron believe that I can follow in his footsteps?_

_How can I even keep up with him?_

_Why did I ever decide to join him?_

Suddenly, a light is upon him. Squinting, he looks up to see a patrol copter.

“Halt! You’re in violation of curfew.”

He continues to force himself forward as new questions run rapid in his mind.

_Curfew?_

_What curfew?_

_When did this happen?_

“This just gets better and better.” He mutters before continuing to speed up.

“HALT!”

His eyes widen as he sees an outpost up ahead, swarming with soldiers. He pulls the hood up on his jacket before he jumps off the bike, ditching it in the snow. Panting, he runs towards the side of the outpost and into the labyrinth of crates.

“There he goes!”

He hears their armored footsteps clatter every time they take a step. He quickly turns around the corner and presses against the wall as the guards run by. He looks out for a moment before continuing in the other direction. He runs just through another way when the light shines over. Quickly, he hides in the shadows as the guards come in view.

“Secure sector 12.”

And they left as the light continues towards him.

Looking around, he searches for a way out.

He turns.

_The crate!_

He slips through the small opening of the crate as the light crosses where he had been moments earlier. He looks through the opening as the guards run by. Sighing, he pulls off his hood and turns around to sit but freezes with a gasp at what he sees.

He’s not the only one in the crate. People of all sorts sit against the wall, chained together and the end man to the wall. They look up at him with eyes of darkness and hopelessness.

Holding his hands up in surrender, he says with a little tremor in his voice, “Please tell me you’re hiding too.”

_Idiot!_

He grunts as he loses his balance suddenly. His knees meet the ground. He turns to the opening and sees he’s ascending from the ground.

_Oh great._

_This day can’t get any worse._

Someone gets up from the edge and makes their way towards him. He looks at their feet, trying to steady himself.

“Congratulations.” The person says after a moment and Beck looks up to a dark-skinned man with stone cold eyes and a band on his shoulder.

“You just made yourself a prisoner.”

The man holds out his hand and after looking at it for a moment, Beck takes it and gets to his feet. He looks back to the opening before turning back to the fellow prisoner.

The man notices and opens his mouth to say something when someone, a young voice, cuts over him.

“This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here I didn’t do anything! This is all because of that Renegade!”

 _Oh? This is_ my _fault?_

Yet part of him agrees with the panicking teen, so he leaves himself to mutter, “The Renegade…”

 The prisoner that approached him however, turns to the panicking boy with a set jaw. “Cool it, Rilo.”

‘Rilo’ turns to him showing him his handcuffs, “Have you _forgotten_ where they’re taking us?!? Each one of us is going to end up _dead_! Have you ever seen anyone killed? _It’s disgusting!”_

The prisoner glares slightly and Beck, trying to hold back the memory of faraway eyes and blood, asks, “What’s he talking about? Where are we going?”

The prisoner doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walks over to the window and looks out. After a moment, he speaks.

“There.”

Beck follows him and sees the unmistakable shape of the event and panic tears its way into his chest and up his throat.

“…The Games.” Beck says, panic barely held back.

The prisoner nods.

_Oh nonononononononono…_

“…You alright?”

“Huh?” Beck looks up to the prisoner, who is watching him carefully.

_No_

“I’ll be fine.”

The prisoner looks to his trembling hands skeptically, but doesn’t say anything.

Beck sits down against the wall, “I just need to think this through.”

The prisoner nods and Beck bows his head, hands touching his temples.

_I could jump here._

_And risk dying._

_I could let myself get caught and thrown into the Games. I may die, but if I don’t, I could try escaping….._

He hears Rilo moaning about his fate endlessly. It jars him from his thoughts and he can’t reenter.

“We’re gonna die!”

“Will you just SHUT UP?”

Every head turns to Beck as the words he said hang in the air. After a moment, Beck gets to his feet and makes his way towards Rilo.

“Moaning isn’t going to help you in the Games. Those black guards aren’t going to just _not_ kill you because you beg them to. Don’t like your fate? Change it.”

He walks back to the other side where he had been sitting, all eyes still on him. The prisoner watches him with a slight smirk as Beck looks out the window again.

After a long moment, Beck stands next to the prisoner who had first approached him. The crate begins to lower and Beck hears the screams and cheers of the programs outside. Beck closes his eyes with his head against the wall, intaking a deep breath.

The prisoner must have sensed Beck’s anxiety, because when Beck reopened his eyes, he held out his hand in a friendly gesture, “Names Cutler.”

Beck turns and takes his hand, shaking it. “Beck.”

That’s all they are able to fit in before the crate hits the ground with a loud CLUNK and the doors slam open.

* * *

 

_Meanwhile…_

“Sorry boss, haven’t seen him.”

Abel sighs in slight frustration as the _fifth_ co-worker he asked continues.

“…Thought he was with you.”

Abel shakes his head, “Well, let me know if you find him.”

He walks away towards where two mechanics were working; one on a bike, the other on a large Occupation tank.

The one at the bike, Zed, glances at his co-worker before tracing his finger in the dust of his work on the bike. It forms a heart and in the reflection, Mara can be seen hard at work. He views it for a moment, before letting out a lovesickenly distracted sigh.

“Zed!” this causes him to jump and wipe away the dust.

“Mara!”

Abel ducks under the long end of the tank as it rotates. Zed pretends to be working, hoping Abel wasn’t there to scold him. What Abel asks makes him stop and turn.

“Did Beck even _bother_ to show up for his shift?” He asks, crossing his arms in a demanding posture.

Zed shrugs with a slight grin, “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, taking a break…”

Mara jumps down from the tank as she interjects, “Actually, it’s just been me and Zed all shift. We’re supposed to meet him at the club later. Should we be worried…?”

Abel shakes his head, “Nah. I was just gonna let him put up one of my bikes. My favorite, in fact.” He turns and beckons them to follow. With an exchanged glance, they do.

Abel opens the door to his personal supplies and flicks on the light. Mara gasps at the sight.

“Whoa.”

Zed’s nose scrunches as he walks around it, “What’s so special about this old thing?”

“ _Old thing?_ ” Mara says as she kneels next to it to view it, “Zed, this is an Encom 786 first-gen bike. It’s one of a kind! _Every component_ designed for _speed_.” She finishes, standing in front of him. Either way he shrugs.

“Yeah…but it doesn’t look too safe.” He walks over to a newer bike, “Give me a newer model anytime.” And with a pat on its side, says, “You can’t beat reliable.”

“I don’t want reliable.” Mara says, coming up to him. Almost flirting, her hand goes from his shoulder, up his neck and away as she continues, “I want…. _dangerous_.”

She leaves him stunned for a moment before his expression turns to frustration.

_So close._

“Well, it’s nice to see someone has an appreciation for _older_ technology.” He grabs the handles and begins to wheel it out, “Can you let Beck know it’ll be in my office?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he wheels it out of his supply room.

“I just hope he isn’t getting into any trouble.” He mutters under his breath.

How very wrong he was.

* * *

 

As the as the doors slam open, the people inside groan and shrink away from the sudden bright light. This gives the soldiers outside the opportunity to lead them out easily. A great strategy, in hindsight, to take away light and to re-expose them to it harshly.

As Beck’s trying to shield his eyes, one of the guards sees his uncuffed hand go to cover his face.

Beck starts as three guards pin him up against the wall.

Wordlessly, two guards cuff his hands while the other holds his head to the wall, tugging on his hair to help keep him there.

Finally, the guards pull him away from the wall and push him, “Get in line.”

Beck stumbles slightly, but at the sight of guns being aimed at him, he falls in line behind Cutler. Guns continue to stay trained on them as they stay in a single-file line towards another dark room.

As soon as they enter the room, the door slams closed. They are jostled into the middle. As soon as they are still, cuffs pop up over their ankles, connecting them to the floor.

“Congratulations.” A voice, the voice of all the odds and ends of the city that needed a voice, says above and all around them, “You have been selected for the Games.”

Rilo looks up to the sky, “If I don’t survive,” his eyes harden as he looks down and Beck leans forward to look at him, “that _Renegade_ is to blame.”

Cutler looks down to him with a firm glare, “Rilo, I told you_”

“ _It’s not his fault?_  The only reason we’re here is because the Renegade remodeled CLU’s statue!”

_Remodeled…that’s a new word for what I did…_

“Next thing I know, they pick me up for breaking curfew. I lost track of time; I shouldn’t have to die for it!”

“We’ll survive this,” Beck vows suddenly, “You’re not going to die.”

The conversation is stopped as four females, all dressed in white, walk towards the group.

Beck lifts his head slightly. He’s heard of them. Known as Sirens, the women help supply the city and its people with needs and demands.

_And sometimes….those demands put them on the wrong side of public opinion…._

One approaches him. She doesn’t make eye contact as she picks up armor and begins strapping it on him.

“For your safety, you are being equipped with battle armor. Do not attempt to remove your battle armor.” The voice says. Beck looks to either side as he sees Cutler and Rilo have gained theirs, Cutler’s with a glyphic 3 and Rilo’s with an eleven. Beck looks to his own to see the 5 carved in it.

He looks up again as the Sirens retreat into the darkness. His head shoots up as the voice starts again.

“Armor complete.” The voice seems to pour a sick grin in the irony of her next words.

“ _Enjoy the Games_.”

The cuffs on the prisoners fall to the ground with a loud CLANK. They all rub their wrists to regain feeling as the door in front of them pulls open, exposing them to the loud, crude cheering and the formerly familiar landscape. Uncertainly, they step into the stadium.

The stadium had indeed changed. The familiar green turf that held many memories had been ripped away, and left the dirt underneath. Above them, many levels and platforms seem to float in midair. The scoreboard was gone; replaced with a commentator’s box, large and protected, along with the start of the wall that is now around the stadium (or at least in progress). The only thing that was spared was the stands, yet they were filled with people of bloodlust and gore, not at all the mild-mannered folk that used to come for Saturday baseball.

The prisoners step into the light, uncertainly staring at everything around them.

Beck sees a flash on the other side. Turning his head fully, he sees the doors on the other side open and a small regiment of seven soldiers come out, quickly advancing to the middle. As they stop, the back two flip back. The next two flip forward, leaving three in the middle. Then the two on either side flip out.

“All combatants prepare for team battle. Difficulty level: _Extreme._ ”

As the presumably female voice says this, the final soldier puts on a show for all to see before landing gracefully in a crouch. The crowd cheers for them.

_Whoa._

“So,” Beck turns as Rilo speaks to him directly, “still think we’re gonna survive?”

Beck doesn’t answer. He looks to the commentator’s box to see the bulky frame of General Tesler and the two smaller ones of his commanders.

Inside the box, Tesler stands.

“In the name of our great leader CLU,” the cheering escalates at the name. Tesler inwardly grins before throwing up his arms, “LET THE GAMES BEGIN!”  
The crowd cheers even louder if possible, and the prisoners are forced forward, towards a starting point.

“Here we go.” Beck says, but only where Cutler and Rilo can hear.

“Regiment!” The lead soldier calls in a distorted voice, “Positions!”

Immediately, they all stand and pull out their knives, some of them guns. Beck holds gaze as he pulls a knife from his belt, the others grabbing whatever they could find. Cutler however, grazes his hand across the handle of a gun, hidden in his belt loop.

Immediately, the prisoners run to all different sides of the field, the guards not yet moving.

“We’re not gonna survive _two rounds_ against these guys!” Rilo panics. He has no weapon, so he holds a posture that’s ready to run.

“Here!” Beck hands him a knife. Rilo almost drops it.

“Wha_?!?”

“Just stick close to me Rilo.” He continues, watching the guards.

After a moment that had stretched into ages, the lead leans forward, “ATTACK!”  
He tears off and they spread out, three heading towards them.

“COME ON!” Beck yells, before running at the nearest one, making sure Rilo was near and out of danger before slinging out with his dagger with a yell.

* * *

 

_Meanwhile…_

The Argon 10011 club booms with music, even in the night. Inside, people take every spot, anxious to escape everything for one night. And among them, is Mara. Now out of uniform, she dances to the music, eyes closed and hands over her head. She dances alone, because at the bar Zed sits with a drink in hand.

A complete lie it would be to say that Zed is okay. This crush he has had for Mara has grown to an almost unrestrainable point, the thing holding him back is that she had skipped over his advances…no matter whether it was subtle or not, for other things. The thing_ or rather _person_ that has caught her attention like the way Zed wants: the Renegade.

All the more reason to be bitter.

He groans in slight frustration as he hunches over his drink. Daring himself to, he turns to the dancefloor and sees Mara. She’s no longer dancing as she was, but swaying as she talks to a couple men in an obviously riveting conversation, as she laughs at what one of them said.

“Great.” He mutters. Even every other bachelor in Argon has a better chance than he does at winning her attention.

“Just great.” He downs part of his drink before setting it back down and hunching back over.

Unbeknownst to him, a figure watches him from a distance, taking in everything about him. After a long moment, the figure stands and walks towards Zed.

“Is that for me?” Zed doesn’t even look up at the voice.

“Yeah,” he says bitterly, “why not?”

“…Are you here alone, too?”

He turns to talk to this annoying girl he couldn’t seem to leave him alone.

“Actually, I’m here with a friend but I’m….” He stops mid-sentence.

There’s no denying the girl is pretty. _Beautiful_ , Zed dares himself to think. Her brown eyes watch him. She has almost a simple bob haircut but her clothes….lest to say, they certainly make Zed’s cheeks burn slightly and his mind fill with unusual thoughts, even for him. She tilts her head slightly, watching him.

“I…um….” Zed looks down, trying to collect a thought that wouldn’t turn off the female.

“Zed.” The bartender says coldly, trying to get his attention.

His mind jumps over the tone as he stands, “I’m Zed! I’m Zed.”

The female smiles slightly at that as she holds out her hand, “Pearl.”

He takes her hand and she sits down next to him as they strike up a conversation.

While Zed forgets about Mara, she stops dancing as she sees Zed in a conversation with a girl. That part she didn’t mind as much as something seemed terribly _wrong_ about it. But she couldn’t decide what.

* * *

 

“Resist!”

BANG

Another figure falls to the ground, dead.

“Player 6: defeated.”

 Beck forces himself not to look that way as he continues his knife-spar with a soldier. He dodges a slashing motion before flipping over his arm as the motion comes back. Beck jumps up and rotates. Stupidly, the guard looks up and gets a face full of foot, Beck grunting as he kicks out. The guard groans as he falls to the ground and doesn’t get up. Beck lands gracefully before standing fully.

“Hey!” Beck jumps slightly. He had forgotten Rilo was there.

“That was good!”  
Beck grins slightly as he comes up, “We’re going to make it.”

Beck turns as he sees two guards jump onto the platform he and Rilo are on.

_Time to prove yourself Rilo. I know you can do it._

Beck tenses and surges forward, “Stay close!”  
Immediately, they both launch into a fight as right above them, Cutler fights off another guard.

Haphazardly, Rilo jumps out of the way as a dagger almost cuts his shoulder. He lunges out but ends stepping back rapidly as the guard throws more swings at him. Rilo ducks and the soldier swings too far out. Rilo notices and jabs up. The guard screams as he dies and crumples to the ground, the knife still in him.

“Black Guard defeated. Advantage: Challenger.”

Beck manages to knock his guard away as he sees Rilo walk towards him. He gives a grin, but it fades to horror as he sees a soldier jump up above the floor of their platform, an aiming gun in hand.

“RILO! RUN!”  
 Rilo turns, but he’s too slow to process Beck’s words.

BANG

Rilo screams as the shot hits him straight in the chest, through the armor given to them. He falls to the ground.

“NO!”  
Beck runs over to him and kneels next to him. Rilo breathes heavily as the blood spills out.

“Oh God no…NO!”

He puts his knife to the side as he uses his hands to attempt to staunch the bleeding. It didn’t work, as the blood stains his hands.

“Stay with me Rilo. Come on….”

Rilo’s young face becomes pale and his eyes become blank and unseeing as the voice announces in a now, what seems to Beck, ominous tone.

“Player 11: defeated.”

“NO!” Beck bows his head.

_This is all MY doing! I should’ve__

His thoughts are interrupted as someone tackles him.

“GET DOWN!”

BANG

A shot just skims over him and Cutler, who had tackled him. He gets off as the soldier that killed Rilo prepares for an attack.

Beck looks to Rilo’s body, “I couldn’t save Rilo. He’s gone.”

“But we’re _not!_ And neither are they. _”_ Cutler interjects as he ducks another shot. “Now COME ON! I KNOW HE WOULDN’T LIKE YOU JUST LETTING YOURSELF BE KILLED!”

The words ring true in Beck’s mind. He looks to his dagger and picks it up. Next to it, he sees something everyone in Argon had.

 _An ID._ Rilo’s _ID._

Quickly, he pockets it as he gets to his feet. The rage that had consumed him when Bohdi died returns, though rawer as no one is holding him back.

“Then let’s level the playing field.” He growls before charging forward with a battle cry.

* * *

 

In just an hour, Pearl and Zed had gone from strangers to a ‘thing’ and now they sit at a booth alone.

“…So the third Siren says, ‘I thought that face looked familiar’!”

Pearl laughs before putting her hands on top of his. He glances at it, still in shock that someone like _her_ wanted to be with _him_ , just as he had given up.

“May I…borrow him for a second?”

_Huh?_

Zed looks up to see Mara is standing at the edge of the booth. Zed glances to Pearl, expecting anger or jealousy. Instead, she just grins forcefully, “Just bring him back in one piece.”

Mara pulls him to his feet. She leads him out of earshot before saying, “Whoa, Zed. What’s your secret?”

Zed steps away from her touch casually, “You know what they say Mara: it’s in the blood!”

Mara laughs at his joke. “Well can you spare some time for _one little_ dance?” she begins to pull him onto the dance floor.

Zed’s smile fades into uncertainty, “Dance? Like you and me?”

“C’mon Zed, you owe me. I’m you best friend.” She lets go of his arm and steps onto the dance floor, instantly in the beat.

He frowns as he watches.

_You ignored me until now!_

_Maybe she’s just jealous; she wants me paying attention to her!_

“Right,” he says dryly, “ _friend._ ”

He looks back to Pearl, who’s watching it all. He glances to Mara again before making his decision.

He walks back to Pearl and clears his throat.

“You wanna_” he grunts as he tries to lean against the table. He misses and falls to the ground. Covering it up with another fake cough, he leans against it and holds out his hand, “Wanna get out of here?”

She takes his hand and follows him, “Absolutely.”

As they near the door, she asks, “Who was that girl?”

“Oh, you know, just a _friend_.” He says, looking back at her as they exit.

* * *

 

“CUTLER!”

The said man looks up as Beck jumps down. Quickly, he kills the man in front of him before Beck lands next to him.

“Black guard defeated. Advantage: challenger.”

Meanwhile in the commentator’s box, the general sits watching, his two commanders on either side of him.

“Hm…” Paige, the commander on left, muses, “They’re good.”

“Too good.” Tesler corrects, before turning to Pavel, “Sound the bell.”

Pavel protests, “But the round_”

“_is over. Do it.”

Pavel sighs and walks over. Pushing a button, the alarm blares and both survivors fighting stop as the guards back away.

The crowd begins to yell in protest. Pavel ignores them as he says into the microphone, “Due to technical difficulties, this round will conclude early.”

This doesn’t sooth the people in the crowd, but the two people are dragged out of the arena.

The general growls in frustration as he stands and leaves the room, his commanders watching him go.

* * *

 

Across the city, Zed and Pearl are sitting on a rooftop, watching the Coliseum.

“Well,” Pearl says finally, “Argon’s beautiful from up here.”

 _Not as beautiful as you._ Zed thinks.

“Its alright.” he shrugs, “I guess I’m just used to it.”

“Well it’s a lot better than where I’m from.”

Zed perks up and turns to her, hoping to start a decent conversation, “Where’s that?”

She shrugs and looks away, “Doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”

After a moment, she looks up to meet his gaze, “With you.”

She smiles and Zed mirrors it.

“So,” she says after a moment, breaking gaze to look around, “what’s there to do for fun around here?”

Zed looks up as he thinks, before looking back to her, “Well, there’s the park….but it’s closed for curfew…”

He turns to her, “There’s the Coliseum.”

She gives him a disgusted look and he looks back down, “Yeah. Not my idea of fun either.”

“Is there any place in the city that isn’t shut down by the Occupation?”

Zed looks up as he gets an idea, “There is _one_ place…”

* * *

 

“These are your new accommodations.”

Beck looks up as one of the prisoners yells out in pain. He had been tazed from behind by the guard, and now he’s on the ground. His fellow prisoner kneels down next to him, a worried expression on her face. The guard leaves, not even caring as the prisoner he tazed doesn’t move.

“We have new teammates to break in.” Cutler says in observance.

“You mean more people to watch die.” Beck says, looking down at the ground again.

Cutler looks to him, seeing Beck is holding Rilo’s ID in his hands.

“Don’t tell me you’ve given up. We could use you out there; you’re not a bad fighter.”

“Yeah…tell that Rilo.” Beck replies bitterly, flipping the ID between his fingers.

“…he was supposed to turn fifteen in two weeks.” Beck finally says, emotion cracking in his voice, “and now because of me, he won’t get to be fifteen.”

Cutler says nothing, but watches Beck.

Beck finally sighs, “I’m just a mechanic. I wasn’t made to do this.”

“So it’s like that?” Cutler finally asks, “No hope?”

Beck doesn’t answer.

“I felt that way once…after we lost the ISO war.”

Beck looks up, “You fought in the ISO war?”

“That’s right.” Cutler taps the band on his arm and suddenly it clicks with Beck.

_It’s a war band…._

_Is he an ISO?_

Cutler looks up, “Most of my friends fell fighting CLU and his forces. I started to despair…until the Renegade showed up.”

Beck feels anger at his own actions rise, “ _The Renegade?_ Isn’t this all _his_ fault?”

Cutler doesn’t yell. Rather he moves to where he’s sitting across from Beck.

“Oh I don’t think so. If he’s willing to risk his life to fight back, then I wanna be right there fighting beside him. That’s why I came to Argon: to join him.”

_What?_

Beck looks down in thought.

“But there’s more.”

Beck looks up again, his interest caught.

“I know who the Renegade _really_ is.”

He already knows the answer, but despite that he asks, “Who?”

“We both know. He’s the one man who can save us all. Whose name alone inspires hope.”

Cutler holds out three fingers on top and one on bottom to make the ever familiar symbol.

“He’s Tron.”

_He thinks I’m Tron…?_

Beck sits up straight and looks down, “Tron…”


	6. Chapter Five- Rise of the Renegade Part 2

Pearl struts into the Garage, looking at everything. Zed follows; looking around to make sure no one sees them in here.

“I have to say,” she says finally, “this is kind of cool.”

She had walked over to a control panel and now she pushes a button, causing the bike rack to start moving. In a panic, Zed runs over as Pearl walks off, and he pushed multiple buttons until it turns off.

“Shh!” he says with a shaky laugh, “There are…people nearby.”

But Pearl isn’t listening. She’s looking at the scanner to the office.

“You’re authorized, right?” Zed looks to her in surprise, “So it’s okay to go in.”

He holds his hands up slightly as if to say hold on, “uhhhhhh I don’t think that’s such a great idea….”

Pearl takes his hand and he mentally crumbles. She leads his hand to the scanner, where the door opens with a small chirp of success. She then clasps her hands around his and leads him in, with a small whisper.

“Then it’ll be our secret.”

* * *

 

The Coliseum is a construction work in progress.

It’s obvious to everyone as the guards lead them through the walls of the arena.

As prisoners, they walk in a single file line, as if to discourage conscripting.  Beck and Cutler are in the back, just in front of the final guard.

The thing that makes him look up and notice it all is when he heard the sound of the technical levy. He turns to see it not only rise, but there are others as well, all following the same routine as the levy next to him. He watches one rise, all the way to the top of the arena. He watches it calmly for one more moment, and then faces back forward. He tilts his head, as if his neck was sore, and looks up the long line of prisoners.

_If I time this just right…._

“Tell the person in front of you that Tron lives.”

Cutler glances back to him, “What_?”

“Just do it. Trust me.”

Cutler gives him one final glance back before putting a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him and whispers it onward.

Barely a few minutes later, the line stops as a guard demands, “Did you just say _Tron lives_? Talk like that is sedition!”

All the guards, even the one in the back, run to the front around the program, “Who said it?”

Beck glances at the front before taking off in a sprint, motioning for Cutler to follow. He’s right on Beck’s heels already though.

He crouches down behind a control booth and they both seem to disappear from sight as the guards don’t even notice they are gone.

Beck gets to his knees and works over the control panel, setting in the commands he wants. Next to them, a levy begins to rise.

“Let’s go.”

They run and jump onto the levy, hiding in the piping out of the sight. Beck looks out the side to see the guards scrambling around to his delight, having taken too long to notice they were gone.

After a moment, they both climb on top of the pipes as they near the top. When they are finally equal to it, they leap off, and land on the path to being home-free.

* * *

 

They can see the Coliseum from the large window in Abel’s office. Pearl stands at it, looking out the window.

“Well,” Zed sighs, “this is it. Abel’s office,” he gives an almost inaudible nervous laugh, “Central hub of the garage and antiques _warehouse_.”

Zed remembers the parrot and goes over to stroke it, where it steps onto his finger. It can’t say much; just yes and no, thus earning it the name Bit.

“Actually a lot of these artifacts are priceless.”

“ _Yes._ ” Bit squawks and Zed strokes his nose.

Pearl sits down in Abel’s chair, putting her feet up on the desk. It annoys Zed slightly, but to keep her impressed, he decides not to confront her about it.

“I dunno. Seems like a ton of junk to me.”

 _“Yes_.” Bit agrees, before giving what sounds like he is attempting to wheeze before he flies off. Zed forces a smile and nervously laughs.

“Well,” Pearl finally says with a sigh, “It is getting late…”

_No, she can’t leave yet…I don’t want this dream to end…_

His head turns as he searches the dark, and sees a shape from earlier that day.

“Over here.” He says, almost running over to it. He knows she can at least see the rough shape of it from her spot.

“Know what this is?”

She gives him a look, “…a bike.”

“Well this is not just any bike,” he says, bringing it into the light. He stops it in front of her in a presentation tone, “This is a Rencom 682!”

She throws him a blank look before it clicks. A small smile of disbelief starts on her face, “You mean it’s an Encom 786.”

“I said that, didn’t I? It’s one of a kind!”

Pearl stands and walks around it, viewing it in almost awe. After a moment, she leans against the side, “Now that I think about it…my bike has been acting up lately. Think you can take a look at it?”

Zed smirks after a noise of cockiness, “I’ll have it singing in no time.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Beck and Cutler are almost home free. It’s taken them longer than they thought it would, to get out. But now, they are almost to the downhill, almost to freedom.

There’s a sudden _whoosh_ sound and they both skid to a stop as two guards land in front of them. They both turn to see they are quickly surrounded. The final guard to land takes off her helmet with a dry, “Why am I _not_ surprised?”

And that’s the truth: she wasn’t surprised that not long after the two prisoners had banded together that they would try to escape. It just annoyed her that they did it in such an underhanded, distracting, and _clever_ way.

The guards behind the two catch them off guard, holding one arm over their necks and the other holding out an arm.

“So, you two wanna be a team?” She strides up in anger. When she stops, she clicks one thing, a cuff, on one wrist for both.

“Well fine.” She steps away as they let go. The prisoners don’t try to attack, but rather are trying get out of the cuff. “Then be a team.”

She signals to the guards and they form around the two and roughly lead the two back inside the arena.

Beck grunts as he hits the ground of the arena. Cutler lands right beside him, the chain lying between them. Beck shakes his head as Cutler says finally, “I suppose it could be worse.”

VROOM

They both turn to see three bikes zoom past them.

“Oh no. It’s totally worse.” Beck utters dryly as they both get up.

“Bike battle initiated.”

Cutler pretends not to hear his comment as they both watch the bikes take a lap around the arena to start.

_Think positive Beck…_

“Three guards; two of us.” He finally says, walking past Cutler then turning back to look at him, “Those odds aren’t so bad.”

“But they’ve got bikes!”

Cutler tries to go one way but meets resistance when Beck tries to go another as the bikes race towards them. With a grunt, Beck pulls Cutler off to the side and the bikes go by where they were just standing. Cutler barely misses being even just skimmed and Beck pulls out his laser knife, Cutler picking up a large stone.

Cutler pulls them to the side suddenly and Beck’s thrown, almost cutting himself with the knife (which is definitely a bad thing considering it’s not just a knife, but a laser). Cutler throws the rock at the bike. It bounces off the front and as they rotate, Beck turns and his eyes widen. He barely dodges as the rock almost nails him in the head. He can practically hear laughter rippling through the crowd and he grits his teeth, biting back a curse at Cutler.

The three bikes finally break formation as they split. Beck disables his knife and puts it away as one zooms towards them.

“Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?” Cutler snaps back.

Beck grabs his end of the chain, “When I give the word, pull as hard as you can.”

Cutler nods and grabs his end.

The bike is almost upon them.

“Now!”

The chain goes taut right as the bike slams into it. Beck and Cutler are pulled off their feet and drag along the bike, making the crowd gasp in surprise. They continue to pull on the chain, having almost broken through the windshield and they balance, still being pulled by the bike, but now their feet give direction. They both give a final tug and the chain breaks through the windshield and clothespins the rider, making the bike flip over. The guard falls unconscious.

“Rider two: down.”

Beck turns to see the next bike appear, “Come on.”

They take off towards the bike. The bike, having hit a sudden ledge, now flies towards them. The rider situates something he’s only allowed to use when he’s certain the challengers are as good as dead. He clicks, and a laser springs out the edge. As he lands, though, he doesn’t expect both prisoners to slide, landing on the ground just as the laser hits, not them, but the chain. Furious, he turns it back off and the two get up, the chain now broken.

The laser has yet to fade and Beck is already running off. Cutler looks down as he notices a small sheath. He picks it up and opens it to see a dark knife.

_This must be Beck’s…I’ll give it to him in a moment._

But for now, he sticks it on his belt as the bike turns around towards him. Someone in the crowd grows angry and throws in yet another rock, as it seems tradition for people to do that here when displeased. He dodges it, then picks it up. He clenches his fists then charges. He quickly throws the rock. It bounces off but Cutler’s prepared as he swings his chain and catches it on the side of the bike and with great skill, finds himself on it, beating at the rider as he struggles to see.

Meanwhile, Beck pulls the unconscious guard out from under the bike. He sets it up and climbs on before speeding off. As he feels the familiar adrenaline, a sly smile grows on his face and he hisses, “Now this is more like it.” He turns and takes off after the third and final rider.

Meanwhile, Cutler uses Beck’s knife to cut through the windshield. The guard sits up, giving up on driving and tries to knock Cutler away. They both manage balance as they stand and Cutler pins him down, stuck by the chain. He turns to see the bike is accelerating towards a wall and he looks back to see a button on the knife. He clicks it and lets out a grin of surprise and triumph as the blade turns into a laser. He slashes off the handlebar that the chain is stuck to and he jumps off, leaving the guard to struggle to stop the bike. It crashes into the wall and explodes.

“Rider One: defeated. Advantage: challenger.”

On the other side of the arena, Beck and the final guard are locked in combat, ramming into each other, hoping to throw each other off. Beck manages a kick before they have to turn.  Beck reaches down to his waist to find his knife is gone.

_Crap._

So instead, he pulls out his wrench and races forward again, right next to the guard.

“I bet you didn’t know I’m a mechanic.”

The guard gives him a hidden look behind his mask. He doesn’t see Beck reach over until he feels the engine begin to die.

“A pretty good one too.”

The guard doesn’t hear the last part as the bike dies and he falls over, collapsed under the bike. Grinning, Beck rides to Cutler and stops next to him.

“Challengers victorious.”

The crowd begins to roar. The two exchange a look before raising a hand in victory, the severed chain swinging from the movement.

“Listen to them.”

The commanders in the box say nothing as Tesler speaks again.

“Cheering the actions of two conspirators. This insolence will spread like a plague unless we end it.”

He turns to the two, “So END IT!”  
Pavel looks smug, “To be fair to _Paige_ her plan _almost_ worked.” Paige glares at him but he ignores it as he continues, “May I suggest an alternative, general?”

* * *

 

Zed finishes working on the bike. He takes off his headgear and turns.

“Your bike’s actually in pretty good condition. I actually can’t find anything_”

He’s cut off as something hits him in the back of the head and he crumples. Pearl stands straight again, smirking.

“Then keep it. I just got an _Encom 786!_ ”

Before he can even register what happened, she and the bike are gone.

“WAIT DON’T….leave…”

He groans and facepalms, “I’m an _idiot!_ ”

“ _Yes!”_

Zed glares up at Bit as he gives the wheezy-laugh sound again and flies off before Zed can take any action against the bird.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Beck and Cutler are led out of the arena as the Occupation promises, ‘an even better challenge, one to remember for the ages’ coming up in just a couple minutes.

_I pity the combatants that are expected to uphold that._

“Oh hey Beck.” He looks up as Cutler grabs his attention, “I found this on the ground of the arena; I think it’s yours.”

Beck looks down to Cutler’s hands, “You found it! Thanks!”

“No problem. It was very useful while I had it. Did you make it?”

“Yep.” Beck puts it back on his waist where it belongs and tightens it.

“So,” he says finally, “you hear about the competitors going next?”

“Not exactly. I’m just glad I get some rest. I don’t think I could stand to fight anymore today.”

“I know what you mean.” However, he looks up as they turn in the opposite direction. They exchange a look as they then see a new member to their prison party, leading the way.

They enter through a doorway that leads down a long, dark corridor to a large room at the end.

Finally, the leader speaks in an oily voice.

“General Tesler was quite impressed with your performance,” Pavel says, making it sound like it was an act and not that they were actually trying to make sure they wouldn’t die. “We never get to see such _delicious_ competition.”

Beck and Cutler exchange a look at his choice of words as they step into the bright end of the corridor; the large room.

They then realize, as it begins to rise, that the room is a platform, and they’re stuck on it with Commander Pavel.

“To thank you, General Tesler’s arranged a… _reward_.”

The platform stops in the arena _again_ and the crowd roars at the returning gladiators.

“Greeting! Behold this momentous occasion! Where not only do you share the privilege of seeing two highly skilled combatants battle for survival, but now you can watch as merciful General Tesler allows them to compete for the greatest prize of all: freedom. The winner of the next round will be released!”

Both Beck and Cutler pull out their weapon of choice, and Beck asks, “Who are we fighting?”

He instantly regrets it though and his stomach drops in dread.

“Why, each other, of course.” Pavel says, stepping away from the two with a deadly smirk.

“ _And to the death_.”

“Final round commencing. Classification: one-on-one battle.”

The platform rises above everyone on the ground and the two look around warily.

“Oppenents: Player 3 versus Player 5. Prize category: freedom.”

The crowd cheers at that, but even louder at the next announcement.

“Match: To the death.”

“They expect us to fight each other?” Beck asks in a soft, shocked voice, turning to Cutler.

Cutler shows his weapon, “Kill each other.” He sets it back down, “The crowd won’t be satisfied until one of us is dead.”

Beck turns and again views the crowd warily. He glances up at the box and feels spite run through him.

“They can’t _make us_ do it,” Beck turns to him, “Not if we stick together.”

Cutler looks to the box, then grins. He puts away his weapon and Beck follows. They both cross their arms, and glare up at the box as the crowd begins to degrade the fighters they were just cheering for.

But Tesler doesn’t say a word. It’s almost as if he was expecting this.

It is then certain when large, sheer walls made of Plexiglas rise out of the ground around the platform. Immediately, the two forget all about their rebellion as they run to the walls, pushing against them as they begin to close in.

“When there’s a winner,” Tesler finally says as he watches the two fight the walls, “the walls will stop. If there’s no winner, they don’t stop. Fight… _or be crushed_.”

The image of Tesler’s final words appears in his head and he sighs, “No, it can’t end like this.”

Biting his lip for a moment, he sets himself and turns towards his ally.

“CUTLER!”

He turns.

“You’ve got to fight me.” He pulls out of his weapon.

Cutler looks confused, “What?”

“One of us has to survive and it has to be _you_.”

“What are you talking about?!?”

“Don’t you see? If we both die here, there will be no one left to continue the fight. _They’ll win._ We can’t let that happen.” He wields his knife, “So attack me!”

Cutler knocks him away and back, “Are you crazy?!? That’s exactly what they want.”

“Then let’s give them what they want. Now COME ON!”

He swings and Cutler stops it. He lunges in with his knife but Cutler grabs both his arms so that even though he struggles, he can’t break free.

“No. I won’t fight you.”

Beck feels his frustration at _everything_ and snaps, “Fine. Then _die a coward_!” He finishes, kicking Cutler in the gut so he hits the wall. Cutler opens his eyes in rage and pulls out his weapon. He stands and charges at Beck, who gasps in shock at his work.

_Maybe pissing off Cutler wasn’t the best idea…_

Cutler brings his weapon, a collapsible spear, down on him. Beck luckily parries with his knife. Cutler tackles him but Beck uses his weight to flip him off. He lands in a crouch and stands.

BANG

Beck dodges as the bullet hits the Plexiglas and bounces off. A dangerous move in a place like this, but he know his trajectories well; Cutler was nowhere near being hit. He shoots again and Beck ducks before taking off in a sprint in the circle that is slowly diminishing.

“Is that the best you can do?” he taunts. Cutler shoots again and Beck runs up the side of the wall, easily dodging the bullet and hears the crowd gasp in shock before he lands gracefully.

Out of bullets, Cutler throws the gun off to the side and throws a dagger. In desperation, Beck retaliates by throwing his own. They hit each other with a clang and Cutler reaches out to grab it but falls as he misses. Beck grabs both and jumps on top of him, both at Cutler’s neck. But he hesitates, and Cutler takes this as an opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him. Beck lets out a yell of surprise and falls to the ground the knives torn from his hands by gravity. Cutler quickly picks them up, copying Beck. But this time, he’s got Beck cornered well, so there’s no way out. Beck’s eyes are wide, pleading to make it quick.

Cutler grunts as he lunges down and Beck closes his eyes, biting his lip.

CLANG

Nothing.

Cautiously, Beck turns and flinches, seeing his knife was not even an inch away from his head.

Cutler stands and turns, “I FORFIET! HE WINS! LET HIM GO!”

The walls are still moving, but they both ignore that as Beck stands, wary.

 “Cutler…”

“You’re the better fighter. If we want to defeat CLU, you’re the right program to do it.”

Beck shakes his head.

_No…we both know I’m not_

Everyone has been silent, waiting for Tesler’s reply.

“No forfeits.” He says finally. And the walls continue closing in.

“Players 3 and 5, prepare for execution.”

_Shi__

“Pick up your weapon, Beck.”

He does so and Cutler picks up his spear. Instead of collapsing it and putting it away though, he sets it up between the now rapidly approaching walls. It stops them for now, and they push against the walls, not even listening to the crowds cheers and protests fully.

 _“One goes free!”_ slips in and out of Beck’s ears as he is consumed by panic, almost back to back with Cutler. The spear suddenly snaps under pressure and nothing can hold them back now. Both have to drop their arms as they are officially back-to-back and Beck feels his breath beginning to catch in his breath, making him pant.

_No….oh God no….._

“Take deep breaths Beck. We’re going to be fine.”

Beck nods and tries to do so as he is crushed between the wall and Cutler. One more push and they’re done for. Beck tenses and closes his eyes.

When suddenly, everything stops.

* * *

 

Fate had worked in their favor, even from the hand of an empathetic enemy.

As the cheers rang from the crowd, Commander Paige stops in front of Tesler.

“Do you think it’s wise to let them both perish?”

“If they both wish to die, I have no problem with carrying that out.” Tesler replies gruffly, looking up from the prisoners.

“True…but you did promise the crowd freedom.”

“So?”

“ _So…_ You’ve got an image to uphold. _The benevolent leader._ One should go free. But the other one…”

Tesler thinks about it, and then slams his hand down on a button. The walls stop, having almost crushed the two, then pulls away.

Beck takes a deep breath and bends over, glad for the space and air again. Cutler glances to him, before looking up.

“Citizens of Argon, both of these enemies deserve to perish. But, we are not savages. I am a man of my word and I intend to keep it.

Number Five,” Beck looks up, “You will be rewarded with your freedom. Even though,” Tesler laughs, “you clearly failed to deserve it.

“As for number three,” Cutler stares up stonily, “You will be taken to Argon Square at the end of the day where you will be executed…. _Bit. By Excruciating. Bit.”_

The crowd cheers and Beck looks to Cutler in shock, his friend ignoring him.

“No one makes a mockery of the Games and lives!”

The two competitors are pulled out of the arena in two different directions. The guards take Beck to the edge of the arena and take off his cuffs.

“You’re free to go.”

Beck begins to leave when he sees a familiar figure walk by.

“Cutler!” Beck fights against his guards. Cutler turns and begins to run towards them.

“Beck! Promise me_”

He screams as he’s cut off, having been tazed by a guard. His armband falls off but the guards don’t care as they pick Cutler up and drag him away. Beck pushes past his guards and picks up the armband.

“Find Tron! JOIN HIM! DON’T STOP FIGHTING!” Is the last Cutler says before he’s gone.

* * *

 

“We had a choice…me or Cutler. I’m not sure we chose the right one.”

Beck stares mournfully at the armband, “He’s the real hero. He could have made a difference.”

“You managed to survive and walk out of the Games with all your limbs intact.” Tron’s voice sounds digital and far-off, “Seems like you did okay.”

Beck looks up, eyes sad, “I let them take Cutler to die. I failed.”

He sighs, then turns to case in the corner.

“Again.”

It’s silent for a moment.

Then the door opens and Tron stumbles out, his shirt hanging on his frame due to its sopping wetness. He grunts in pain as his hand strays to his side. He falls to one knee.

“Are you alright?”  Beck begins over.

“I’ll be fine.” He snaps, holding a hand out to stop him, before getting up to the countertop, where he swallows something.

“The formula for the healing chamber and pills are the only things holding these scars at bay.”

Beck nods as Tron walks over to the window beside him, looking out it.

“But you have more pressing matters to worry about. Now your friend…he’s still alive, right?”

“Yeah,” Beck looks to him, “Until the end of the day.”

“Then you haven’t failed…” Tron meets his gaze, “ _Yet._ ”

Beck catches it immediately and nods, “Right.”

“You better get going.” Tron says when Beck doesn’t move.

Beck blinks, “Oh yeah. Right.” He leaves quickly.

Tron shakes his head, reminded of the old times again.

* * *

 

Beck pulls his bike under the awning and starts over to the Orphanage.

“Beck!”

He turns slightly to see Zed catch up with him, “Oh boy am I glad I found you! Listen, I did something really stupid_”

“Sorry Zed. Gotta go. Have you asked Mara? She may be able to help.”

Beck continues as Zed stops and sighs.

“Kinda hoping to keep her out of this one.”

Beck doesn’t hear it though as he enters the Orphanage and takes the steps two at a time. Once he is in his room and the door is locked, he pulls on the familiar suit of white and slips on the helmet for the first time. He slides out through the window and climbs on his bike before taking off into the inner city.

* * *

 

Zed paces off to the side of the garage, unaware of anything around him. He mutters under his breath.

“Oh who am I kidding? I’m _finished!_ ”

“What’s…wrong?”

Zed looks up to see Mara is working on a tank _right next to him._

“Nothing. _Everything_. Remember Pearl, the girl from the club?”

When Mara doesn’t say anything he continues, “Yeah…big mistake. I might’ve_”

“Zed!”

Zed jumps, knocking something. He quickly begins to pick it up as Abel walks over.

“Have you seen _my bike_?”

Zed nervously laughs, “Which bike? You’ve got a ton of bikes.”

“ _The bike._ You know…the 786.”

“Funny story about that.” Abel turns to him as Zed rubs the back of his neck, “Oh…you might want to sit down_”

“Oh my gosh! I totally forgot! We’re late!”

Zed gives a blank look to Mara, who is now tugging at his arm, “For what?”

“Oh you know…” Mara sighs, “ _the thing._ Bye!”

She pulls him away from Abel and towards the entrance of the Garage.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you retrieve the bike.”

“Wow, that obvious?”

She laughs dryly, “Even from across the club.”

Zed groans, “Oh…we’ll never find her!”

“Maybe not, but we can at least find the bike!” she shows him the tracker she has, “Come on!”

* * *

 

“Hey_!”

With a grunt, the guard is cut off. His partner swings a staff hazardly, hitting his mark once before hitting the ground after a hard blow to the face.

Cutler looks up as he sees the guard fall to the ground. A noise on his right alerts him of another presence. He turns and meets the hidden gaze a white-clothed man, wearing a symbol he knows all too well.

“…Tron? Is it really you?”

Beck can’t bring himself to meet Cutler’s gaze, so instead, he says in a deep voice, “Let’s get you out of here.”

He pulls a key off the guard and unlocks the cell before undoing Cutler’s cuffs. Cutler stands and opens his mouth to say his thanks but the Renegade is already walking away from him, easily taking control of the airship. He sits down, switches out of auto-pilot, and then ever so slightly, turns the ship to the right. Cutler uncertainly sits in the co-pilot’s seat, watching him calmly direct the ship towards freedom.

The ship jerks suddenly and they both are sent forward. The Renegade grips the controls tightly, working to navigate the large craft through the shot in the side. They begin to descend, smoke and fire coming off where the bullet hit. Grunting, Beck grits his teeth as he pulls up on the controls. The lower part of the vessel smashes through a billboard, decimating the man’s face.

“We’re too low!” Cutler exclaims, having stood.

“I got it.” Beck says tensely, still pulling up.

It begins to rise, but only to have one of the main thrusters break off when they hit a building.

“We’re still too low!”

“ _I got it!”_

The other thruster crashes through the glass paneling of a building. The thruster drags along with the rest of the ship, pulling apart the roof as it goes. Finally, it breaks off and the hub crashes to the ground, skidding to a fiery stop. Beck slips out of the seat and grabs one of the guards. Cutler follows his lead before they both jump off. They land on the roof as the hub tips over the edge. Panting, they both drag the unconscious guards away. At least, until it hits the ground and the explosion sends them off their feet, even from their height.

“HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?” Pavel exclaims. He had been set in charge of escorting the prisoner and he managed to escape from Pavel’s grip.

“Let _what_ happen?” Pavel turns and a slight chill takes him as General Tesler approaches him in a dangerous tone.

“Uh….” Pavel nervously grips the curl brushed to the side of his head. He glances back before wording his phrase as careful as possible.

“We have a small problem, sir.”

General Tesler and Commander Paige look through the window to see the small but distinct form they know all too well.

“Looks like I’ll have to clean up your mess.” She leans in close, “ _Again._ ”

She walks away but a smirk grows on her face at the revenge she gained.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Beck and Cutler steadily jog through another part of the city, having been able to escape the last disaster.

CRACK

Beck falls to the ground as something hits his shoulder. He lands on his back and sees the large bullet next to him. Obviously it wasn’t meant to kill, but just stop him…?

He begins to get up when a familiar figure lands on top of him, pinning him back to the ground. She takes off her helmet as her parachute eases down gently to the ground. She aims her gun at his chest and sees the mark of Tron.

“You again.” she smirks.

“Expecting someone else?”

“Love the new look.” she says casually as aims fully at his head. At this close of range, the shot would at least stun him, if not knock him unconscious. It just depended on where she shot….

Paige looks up as the prisoner throws a rock. _His aim is terribly off_ ; it’s nowhere near her.

“Hm,” she looks at him, “fighting’s not exactly your strong suit, is it?”

Cutler smirks, “No.”

Before she can register this, the propeller next to her starts up. Her parachute catches the wind and she’s jerked off the Renegade and into the skies again.

“Aerodynamics is.” He finishes, before rushing over to help the Renegade to his feet. They exchange a look before they take off running again.

* * *

 

At the docks, a large bonfire is setting up. People were throwing car parts and gasoline into the fire as it rises. On a platform on the side, Pearl stands, watching a man examine the white motorbike. After a moment, he looks up disgusted, “This is all you brought me?”

“It’s an Encom 786. It’s one of a kind.” She reasons.

“It’s kinda a _piece of junk_.”

He pushed her out of the way, looking at the front of it.

“Do you know how valuable it is? Kevin Flynn rode one just like it_”

“Didn’t you hear me?!?” He snaps, the topic an obvious sore spot, “It’s not worth _anything_.”

He meets her glare with one of his own. But he can’t for long though, so he looks back, “But uh…since it’s worthless…”

He steps on it and starts the engine. Pearl forces a smile and a thumbs up for a moment before he’s off. He pops a wheelie before making a U-turn and roaring off the platform, through the fire, and skidding not-so-safely on the other side. He destroys a pile of boxes before taking off again. By now, it was obvious to the hiding mechanics that without a paint job, Abel would definitely know what happened.

“It’s official.” Zed groans, “Abel’s going to kill me.”

When he sees she’s thinking, he asks, “Any ideas?”

After a moment, she looks up, “They have us outnumbered. But if we take them by surprise…”

She stops as a gun muzzle taps her head. Zed looks up in shock to see Pearl give a large grin, surrounded by other bonfire members.

“Surprise.”

* * *

 

“What’s the hold up?”

“What’s going on here?”

“Expect minor delays. Your patience is greatly appreciated.”

But it’s obvious from the frowning guard’s face as he stops traffic that it isn’t really.

Beck looks around the corner of a large truck to see the Occupation holding up traffic, obviously on the lookout for the two of them.

“The whole city’s on alert!” Cutler noted.

“Then we get you out of the city.” Cutler gives the Renegade a look that he ignores.

The drawbridge just beyond the traffic begins to rise. Seeing the opportunity, he makes his move.

“Go!” He takes off through the traffic. The guards notice him immediately, so they don’t notice Cutler following.

“You! Stop!”

Beck pounces easily tackling one guard before disarming the one next to him. With a swing, the second is down and just as quickly, the third follows. Beck continues on quickly, and Cutler stops for just a moment to glance at the guards before following. They race up the side of the bridge, their movements becoming slower as it gets steeper. They grip the edge of the bridge and turn to see the tank that has been present was aiming at them and begins to shoot at them.

“We have to jump.” Beck says.

“ _What?”_

“Don’t hesitate. Trust me!” His own words remind him of Tron’s just earlier.

He doesn’t dwell on it, but instead jumps. His hands grab the other side and he climbs up. The bridge’s gap was growing.

“COME ON!” Beck calls, gesturing him to come.

Cutler looks back to see the tank advancing. With barely a moment’s hesitation, he jumps. His heart jumps as he misses the edge but Beck is prepared. He grabs Cutler’s wrist before he can fall.

“Where are you going? The Revolution needs you.” Beck grunts as he helps Cutler onto the bridge.

They quickly run down the road and look back as the tanks audibly explodes on the other side.

Beck puts a hand on Cutler’s shoulder and he looks back, “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Mara and Zed grunt as they hit the ground. Pearl sighs and crosses her arms, “What are you doing here?”

“I um….” Zed fumbles for words but the man with the 786 saves him the trouble.

“You let him follow you here?!?” He exclaims.

“He’s nobody.” Pearl brushes off, sitting down on the 786, “Just an easy mark.”

“Why did you do this?” Zed wonders hollowly.

Nothing could have prepared him for her answer, even though he should have seen it.

“ _Because it was fun._ Watching you sulk at the club, _staring_ at the girls on the dance floor. You seemed so…what’s the word?”

“Desperate? Gullible?” Her friend added in to help. She shook her head.

“ _Pathetic.”_

Zed looks down. He should’ve known….

She smirks, realizing she hit her mark.

She walks up to him, “As if any girl in her right mind would _ever_ be attracted to such a _weak, hopeless_ _”

SMAK

Pearl falls back to the ground. Mara withdraws her fist.

“That’s my _friend_ you’re talking to.”

While everyone is stunned, Mara points at the bike, “Grab it!”

Luckily, Zed is quick. He hops on the bike and drives off, the accelerator thrumming underneath him. The bike squeals to a stop next to Mara and she jumps on.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Pearl calls, angry and half of her cheek already red, “GET THEM!”

Zed glances back then lowers down as the top of the bike covers them. Mara grabs onto his waist but he doesn’t notice. All that matters now is getting away.

* * *

 

Beck leads the way through the docks, jumping from crate to crate. Cutler follows him easily.

Beck stops as he sees the dock, where five boats sit.

“Those boats should get us out of the city.”

“Let’s go then.” Cutler says and Beck nods before running down the pathway. The exit is in view and Beck grins in triumph.

It fades quickly, though, as he stops when Paige lands right in front of him with a grunt. She blocks the exitway, pulling out a dagger, her eyes showing her true emotion of triumph.

A crate falls behind her, blocking off the way completely. She looks back to it and her eyes harden.

“End of the line, you two.” She says, looking back to them before immediately lunging at Beck. He dodges and Cutler jumps at Paige. She kicks him back and he hits one of the crates with a grunt. She swipes at Beck again and he dodges before kicking her away. She hits another crate but dodges his punch as it hits where she had been standing. She takes the opportunity to kick him in the mask. Unlike the last one of them kicked the other in the mask, it did not break, but Beck just hits his back on one of the opposite crates. He pulls away quickly, though, as it suddenly begins to rise. But the mere distraction throws him off; as he turns back and Paige’s foot hooks his neck and throws him to the ground, leaving him stunned.

She pulls out her pistol when Cutler tackles her, basically jumping on her and he grabs her head while his other arm grabs her shoulders. She tenses and in a barely controlled emotion, she slams her back into the crate, hitting Cutler first. He lets go, but she elbows him in the gut. He groans and bends over and she uses her adrenaline to throw him over her shoulder and to the ground. Beck stands as Cutler is on his knees, and he looks up to see the crate rising. Carefully, he grabs Cutler by the collar and uses his other hand to grip the edge of the crate and they rise.

Paige narrows her eyes and chases after them, jumping from crate to crate. Beck pulls Cutler up and he grabs the crate too before they both climb to the top of it. He turns in surprise as she land on the crate too with a grunt. She stands and pulls out her knife, resolving to save her bullets.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out.” Beck said, resolving to using his fists, “Just tell Tesler you lost us.”

He lunges forward but she dodges his swing. He flies by her and grabs the lift chain, pulling himself back in. The chain jerks in the pulley, catching on the inside mechanics. His momentum sends him past her and back to Cutler, who catches him before he falls off that side.

“Thanks.”

Cutler nods and lets go.

The pulley breaks on the other side as Paige charges at them. The crate begins to fall on that side and as she grabs the other chain, Cutler stumbles and grabs onto the edge of the crate. Beck stands on the edge, holding onto the other side of the chain. Grunting, Paige cuts at the pulley while Beck is distracted, trying to help Cutler off the edge. Her hard work finishes and the pulley breaks, sending the large crate tumbling to the ground.

When Beck reaches consciousness again, his hearing rings slightly. Grunting, he pushes himself to his knees when he sees Cutler lying across a piece of the now destroyed crate. Panting, he pulls Cutler to his feet and throws one of his arms around his own shoulder, beginning to drag him.

_We’re gonna make it…._

He looks up as he sees the familiar uniform of the Occupation. Paige is standing, battered, panting, and shakily aiming her gun at them. She holds her shoulder to help aim and Beck stays where he is, frozen, unsure on his next move.

* * *

 

“Zed! They’re gaining on us!”

Zed glances back at her words and she’s right; the angry gang was easily on their tail.

Obviously they won’t make it back to Abel’s whole if they stop now. But if they try to continue on, they will catch up and the same results will happen…..

“Brace yourself.” He says and begins to brake.

“What are you doing?!? They’ll be on top of us any second!”

Zed turns the bike as he stops to face the oncoming enemy, “Just trust me!”

On the gang realizes they had stopped, they do as well. Pearl smirks, “Like I said, _pathetic.”_

The gang leader smirks, “I’m going to enjoy.”

Zed keeps a straight face, “Not as much as I am.”

Mara looks to him in confusion as her hand grips his shoulder. Above the gang, a crate comes to a stop. Zed reaches his hand over to a control panel on the side. At this, few look up in confusion and then alarm. With a smirk, Zed pushes the ‘down’ button. The pulleys release the chains and the crate comes barreling down towards them. A couple scream and they all speed off in the opposite direction as the crate separates them and Zed and Mara.

Mara gave a loud, cheerful laugh.

“That. Was amazing.”

Zed smirks and in his confident feeling, he pops a wheelie and speeds off, enjoying the sound of Mara’s laughter.

* * *

 

_Click click_

Paige looks at her gun in confusion.

_Out of bullets?_

_How can I be out of bullets I thought I reloaded just earlier…?_

The Renegade begins to move. In her frustration, she uses her gun to swing. He jumps back and she uses the opportunity to pocket her gun. He swings his fist but she blocks it with her arm. He steps back to the edge of a passage to see an approaching light. He stares at it for a moment, but notices as Paige lunges at him. He dodges and she steps into the passageway. The bikes approach her and before she can dodge, one of the bikes hits her.

The bike flips, sending a screaming Pearl flying to the ground. The bike skids on its side, stopping the other members of the group. For a moment, both girls are stunned, but by miracle, neither are majorly injured. In her frustration, Pearl pushes the commander off her and gets to her feet. Paige stands after a moment, and she turns to see the Renegade and his fugitive accomplice run off. She grits her teeth as anger roars through her. Thanks to these dim-witted interferences, she failed her mission.

The group begins to walk off but Paige angrily grabs Pearl’s shoulder. Pearl’s head immediately snaps her head to Paige in anger, and her posse advances towards the commander, “Let go of me before I kic_”

Paige easily kicks away her mob members but turning back to her, barely concealing her anger.

“Trust me; you _really_ don’t want to finish that sentence.”

She snaps cuffs on the girl and throws her to the ground before calling for backup. She may not have caught the Renegade, but a mild consolation is bringing in a crime ring to clean up Argon’s streets, even just a little….

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Beck and Cutler climb in one of the boats and Beck hotwires the engine. It rumbles to a start and Beck speeds through the water, towards the end of the port and into the sea.

The ride is silent as Cutler glances around. Finally, he dares himself to speak.

“I really thought it was over for us back there.”

Suddenly, a spotlight catches the boat and out of the gloom, a large ship in Occupation colors appears, towering over them.

“It’s not over yet.”

The ship begins to open fire and Beck jerks the controls to dodge the ship. He takes the craft around the larger in a circle and speeds off the way they had come. The larger ship extends their aim until the boat is out of reach. Beck stops biting his lip, but tenses up again as an alarm alerts him of an issue. He turns back to see the rudder is broken, as well as part of the side.

“I think we’ve got a problem.” Cutler says.

_That’s one way of putting it…_

Another boat pulls up beside them. A harpoon shoots out and through the side of the ship, making Cutler jump as it almost hit him. Pavel appears and jumps across to fight. Beck stands and meets him. Beck pulls out his dagger, which he had avoided using for so long, and meets Pavel’s sword. The two duel it out on the ship, leaving Cutler to struggle to try and control the out of control crafts.  All he can do is bring it in a circle and the larger ship advances towards them. Beck notices too but quickly dodges as Pavel’s sword almost cuts him. With a well-aimed kick, Pavel falls off the side of the ship and into the water.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Cutler calls.

Beck glances to the incoming doom then to the harpoon line connecting the two smaller boats.

“Come on!”

Beck tries to activate the laser but it flickers then dies out. He groans and sets to slicing at the metal line, throwing in as much strength as he can without losing balance on his footholds on either boat. He hears the gunshots begin to ring out and begins cutting against the metal, trying to fight back panic. But among the increasing panic, he hears a new sound and he looks down at the water. With a gasp, Beck steps off to the side with Cutler as a lithe, but large ship rams through the broken one, breaking it to pieces. Beck can’t help but give a thankful thought before settling in the seat to direct the boat. He pulls back in the harpoon and sets off with a new speed. He hears an explosion behind them and Cutler gives him a look and a smirk that Beck mirrors under his mask.

“Who was that?” Cutler asks finally, having seen the unmarked ship take off in the opposite direction.

“A friend.”

Indeed, Beck had recognized the style of his mentor and was glad for the extra help.

Beck stops in the dock they had left before. He gets out of the ship.

“You better get moving. There’ll be more patrols.”

 “There’s a guy named Beck.” Beck stops as Cutler continues, “I think you know him; I saw you have his knife. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Beck couldn’t tell if Cutler’s last words were bitter or not, but he decided not to bring up the knife. Instead, he pulls a familiar armband.

“That’s funny…I met him. He said the same thing about you. Not only did he let me borrow his knife, he told me to give you this.” He tosses and Cutler catches it. After a moment, he looks up.

“How do I thank you?”

“I need recruits.” He finds himself saying before he can think it through, “Will you spread the word?”

Cutler smirks, “Count on it! The Uprising will spread when everyone knows the truth: Tron lives!”

With that, he restarts the engine and heads out of the port and into the sea, and finally out of Beck’s line of sight.

* * *

 

“I should’ve known I don’t deserve a girl like Pearl. I mean look at her! And then look at me!”

“Focus Zed. Abel will be here any minute!”

“Abel?” Both jump as Beck approaches the situation, “I just saw him in the breakroom. Is something wrong?”

Zed stands in frustration, “We’re dead. It’s nice knowing you all.”

Beck frowns, glancing at Zed, then the bike.

“You two distract Abel.” He says, picking up a wrench, “Let me take a crack at this.”

Mara sighs and pushes Zed into the other room, “Thanks Beck.”

“So the third Siren says, ‘I thought that….’ you’ve heard this before, haven’t you?”

Abel does not look amused, “Zed. I’m the one that told it to you.”

“Oh.”

Abel sighs impatiently, “Now where’s my 786?”

“Well…you see…”

The large door separating the work and break area rises and Beck is standing next to the bike, shining without a scratch on it.

“All tuned up. Just like you wanted, Abel.”

As Abel laughing and examining it, Mara throws him a look of questioning. He shrugs, then grins as Abel looks to him, “Great job Beck.”

“Actually….Beck’s not the only one who deserves credit.” Mara starts. She looks to Zed, “Zed does too.”

Zed looks to her in shock as she turns and meets Abel’s gaze, “And he deserves so much more than that.”

Beck bites back a grin at the multiple meanings in her words. He may not know what lead to the bike’s damage, but he now figures it had do something with girls….

With Zed, he secretly wouldn’t doubt it.

“I do?” Then he corrects himself, “I do.”

He walks over and leans against the bike, “Beck helped, but I did all the heavy lifting.”

He leans against it some more, but ends up knocking it over. Beck tenses at first, but when his friend gets up uninjured with a still okay bike, he lets himself grin.

Abel laughs, shaking his head, and takes the bike from Zed.

“You three head on to bed; I’ll be over in a minute.”

The trio nods and they walk across the street, quietly laughing and talking. Well, mainly Zed and Mara, as Beck is lost in thought. At the doorway, he stops, and they stop inside, looking back to him.

“Beck…?”

“I’m going on a walk. Let Abel know I’ll be back in a moment.”

Mara nods and closes the door. With a sigh, he walks off towards the personal garage.

* * *

 

Tron doesn’t look up as Beck joins him at the window.

“So, are you here to continue the fight? Or to quit?”

Beck sighs, then says, “I know there are going to be setbacks, as well as victories. But, I guess that’s okay….as long as we keep fighting and never lose hope.”

Tron stays silent for a moment, hiding his pleasure.

“So…now what?”

Tron makes sure he is serious before he turns and says, “We keep training. Like I’ve said, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Beck smirks and begins to follow.

“Not only that but I saw you struggling for an advantage out there. I may have something that can help.”

Beck smirks, “Fun fun.”


	7. Chapter Six- Tunneled In

On a quiet night at the docks, a prison ship lands. Onto it, a quiet, resigned group of prisoners are led, heads down in defeat. As the ship begins to rise, Beck watches from above. His eyes follow it as it rises into the sky. Once it begins to take direction, Beck sighs.

_Alright, you got this._

He slips on the mask, then climbs on his jet. With an accelerating start, he takes to the skies after the ship. He keeps steady eyes on it, like he had been taught.

He zooms through the two thrusters and arcs up in front of the large ship, which does not show any alarm at his distance.

He pulls from the arc into a beeline towards the windshield, but just above. He presses a button and the jet continues to rise. He unbuckles, takes a deep breath and jumps, barreling towards the window.

Having no gun on him, he pulls out the sword on his back and holds out in front of him.

_I hope this works…._

The sword breaks through the glass and sticks into the ground behind the guards. He uses it to stop himself and assumes a fighting stance as the guards turn.

“I think we all know where this is going.”

They charge towards him but with an easy punch and kick, both fall to the ground, stunned. Beck pulls out the sword and returns it to its sheath on his back. He takes the cuffs on their waists and cuffs both before throwing them to the wall roughly.

“Don’t like being taken against your will?” Beck challenges, kneeling next to one. He gestures to the prison quarters below them, “Guess what? Neither do they.”

The soldiers don’t say anything and Beck stands at the controls. With a sigh, he takes off his mask and sets it down beside him. The cool wind touches his face in a relieving fashion and he closes his eyes for a moment.

“Hey.” His eyes snap back open and he turns his head slightly as the guard continues, “I know you. From the park.”

When Beck gives no sign of remembering, he continues on. “What, you don’t remember me? I’m the one who killed your friend, _Cody_.”

Beck grits his teeth in anger as he remembers the guard’s smirk as his friend fell to his knees while clutching his chest, and now just in his mind’s eye. He knows all of it, including the mis-pronunciation of his name, is all to play with him, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling the need to speak.

“I remember.”

He kneels down next to him, pushing him against the wall, “And you’re never gonna hurt anyone again.”

His anger turns to alarm, however, as he feels the sword leave its sheath. He turns and realizes his stupid, fatal, mistake.

“Dead man.” The cuffed guard says, before stabbing the sword into his gut. Beck yells as the force sends it into his body. He screams more as it passes thorough his ribcage and just moments later, he feels it break through the skin on the other side, impaling him completely. The guard throws him to the ground roughly, and Beck is stunned, frozen there. His sight begins to blur and he coughs to feel the blood trickle from his mouth down his cheek. The guard seems satisfied before he slowly twists the sword. Beck whimpers hoarsely then lets out a loud intake of breath as the guard pulls the sword out and throws it off to the side. The guard stands patronizingly above him but all he can do is watch the scene grow blurrier and blurrier and feel his senses detach until all that’s left is the high ranking pain….and the darkness of incoming death. He closes his eyes to accept.

Where suddenly the pain disappears to a low level ache. His face feels cool and when he opens his eyes, the lights begin to turn on as Tron walks towards him.

A simulation.

That’s all it had been.

With a sigh, he gets to his feet as the pain fades and he grips the sword.

“We need to go again.” Tron says, checking his schematics board, “Let’s try it in Argon Square.”

With a couple clicks and button pushes, the simulation room begins to work to match the situation given.

“Did pretty good until then.” Beck says, hoping to get some sort of feedback out of him.

“Then you were killed. Brutally. ‘Pretty good’ won’t cut it.”

Tron begins to walk off, “You showed your face.”

Beck shrugs, “Mask gets itchy.”

To be honest, everything about the uniform was uncomfortable. The uniform was slightly big, not enough for anyone but him to notice in certain areas and the sword felt large and awkward in his hands.

Tron looks up, “You let your emotions get the best of you.”

That was true, too. The way the guard had spoke about Bohdi….even though it was just a simulation, Beck had felt unrelenting anger towards his friend’s murderer.

“Now, let’s go again.”

Beck finally registers what Tron had been saying.

“Can’t. Got a job, remember? Abel will kill me if I’m late.”

_Again._

“You know, this whole ‘fight for freedom’ thing would be a whole lot easier if I could tell my friends what I’m doing.”

Tron stops what he is doing. He turns and meets Beck’s gaze firmly before walking over to him, “All telling them will do is drag them into this conflict and put them in the crosshairs. _Do you want to get them killed?_ ”

Beck looks down and away at Tron’s sharpness.

“This fight isn’t about _you_ ,” Tron puts a finger on Beck’s chest, “It’s about _them._ ” He points to where outside the walls, the city of Argon sits. Beck looks up slightly, before looking back down.

He was right. If he did say….he could lead them to a worse death than he himself had just now.

Tron sighs, then steps back, “Now let’s go again.”

Suddenly the lights flicker off for a moment before powering back on. Both Beck and Tron look up in confusion as the lights repeat that cycle. They run out of the simulation room and to the main hub. Tron sets up his max-power telescope and zooms in onto the city as the lights disappear to darkness all throughout.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.” Tron replies, still steady, not looking up, “But you’ll find out.”

* * *

 

“You want time off?” Abel looks to him, “ _Again?”_

He leans over the edge of the engine, continuing with: “You know, it’s only a job, if you actually _do_ the work. I need people I can count on, Beck.”

Beck looks away.

_Managing a double life is really a strain on my job….and my relationship with Abel._

“I’m sorry.” Beck looks back to Abel’s back, “It’s a personal thing. Hard to talk about.”

Abel looks up at this. He leaves his work and walks over to Beck, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Beck! You can tell me.”

Abel’s eyes speak honesty.

“I…”

Beck honestly wants to tell Abel, but he’s reminded of what Tron had said earlier.

“….I can’t.”

Abel looks like he wants to argue when the lights flicker off.

“What the_?!?”

The lights return after a moment, but Abel’s still frustrated.

“Oh great.”

Beck looks back from the lights to Abel, “So…about that time off…”

“No can do, Beck.” He turns back to his work, “With these blackouts, I need all hands on deck.”

Beck sighs.

_I should’ve known._

_But how am I going to meet Tron and make Abel happy….?_

Abel stops for a moment, sighing. Finally he nods, “Okay.”

Beck looks up in surprise, _Really?_

 _“If…_ you can get someone to cover you.”

Beck’s excitement shows, “Thanks! Zed just finished his shift. I’ll get him to pull a double!”

He runs towards the outside, where he had seen Zed walk out.

_He’s probably by the personal garage. He spends a lot of time there._

“Zed….”

Silence.

He walks towards the corner of the personal garage.

“Zed?”

The laughter makes him stop. He leans against the wall and looks around the corner.

Zed is there but with two other guys.

“So I’m in?”

“Oh you’re in.” One of the men, one with jagged dark hair, pale skin, and crooked teeth says, before leaning in threateningly close to Zed, making Beck tense, “But you’re gonna wish you weren’t.”

They both push past him and Beck hides against the wall as they walk past.

“Good luck, kid.” The other man, a dark skinned, taller sort of man says as they leave. Once they turn back around, Beck goes around the corner.

“Zed.” His friend looks to him, “…What were you doing with those guys?”

Zed glances back for a moment, “Uh…can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle that.” Beck tries to keep the multiple meanings out of his tone, before it turns to concern, “What’s going on? Are you in trouble?”

Zed shakes his head as he holds his hands up just above his waist, “No, nothing like that. It’s the Argon Race.”

Ah…Beck remembers that well. As children, Abel would take them to see the race, and on until the Occupation arrived. Now the curfew canceled the races.

_I’ve always known that Zed wanted to race, but how is that going to be possible now…._

“It’s no longer through the city. Bartik and Hopper found some tunnels that run under the Outlands.”

“Whoa.” Beck crosses his arms, “Think you can beat those guys?”

Zed’s eyes light up slightly, “I _know_ I can.”

He begins to walk quickly farther into the garage, “Look at what I built.”

He stops in front a lone bike in the back.

It’s sleek, with light green lines on it and the number six near the back wheel.

“Okay…that _is_ pretty impressive.” And that is the honest truth.

“I added an overdrive. Thirty percent faster than anything anyone’s used before!”

Beck looks to him, “You know you’re a little crazy, right?”

Zed ignores the comment, “So you won’t tell anyone?”

“That you’re crazy?” Beck jokes, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Nah, that’s already out there.”

Zed has a slight chuckle in his undertone as they start towards the front, “About the _race_.”

The dim light in the garage noticeably flickers off before returning back on, along with the rest of the neighborhood. Having stopped, Beck turns to Zed, now serious.

“Sure. But you gotta do something for me. Cover my shift? It’s about to start.”

Zed shrugs, “Why can’t you do your shift?”

“Just….” Beck shrugs, “Don’t feel like working. So, deal?”

Zed gives him a skeptical look as he audibly thinks about it.

Beck worries, “Look, will you just do it for me?”

Zed smirks, “You’re getting _real_ lazy lately.”

Beck relaxes and smirks, “Takes practice. You’re the best.”

He grabs his bike and begins to pull away, before jumping on and taking off.

“Where would he be going in the middle of a blackout?” Zed wonders aloud as he turns away to go inside.

* * *

 

The source.

Tron had found it while Beck had been gone so as soon as he had returned, they started off to a spot just outside the city, where the supposed source was.

Just above them, a Recognizer soars and descends into a pit where a large drill sits in orange stature, with soldiers crawling all over the place.

Commander Paige is the one to meet the ship as it lands. The ladders set down and Tesler and Pavel descend, followed by guards.

“Why is the drill off?” Tesler asks finally, “How are we going to mine the natural gas_ with good intentions? Turn it on.”

Paige straightens, putting her hands behind her back. “The mining is taking the energy from the city, causing the blackouts. I was trying to prevent casualties.”

“Since when do I care if a few people get killed in the process?”

“Yeah,” Pavel echoes, “Since when do _we_ care?”

“Now turn on the drill!”

She obeys and turns, giving a sharp whistle and a signal to the turnkey. He sets in the large staff, and starts up the drill again with a metallic creaking sound. The engine powers up and everyone sets back to work.

Paige watches it carefully until Tesler’s words catch her attention.

“Pavel, take over from here. I think you’re better suited.”

They are already walking away as Paige turns to them, her voice tight as she says, “Wait, _what?”_

Tesler stops after a moment and only halfway turns.

“You’ve been sloppy lately.”

“ _Extremely_.” Pavel adds in, throwing a victorious smirk, showing his influence over the general as of now.

When they both turn away and continue towards the ship, Paige lets her true anger show in a death glare with gritted teeth. She storms off, failing to notice the two figures in the distance.

Tron and Beck watch the drill and the soldiers all at work. Tron sits in a tactical dark suit while Beck is beside him in the white uniform, almost blending in with the snow around them.

“I think I found the source of our blackouts.” Beck says finally.

“Greed and stupidity…” Tron muses, “dangerous combination.”

Both look up at the roar of an engine and Beck gives a slight, “Oh!” before they slide over the edge of the slope. They land and Tron leads the way into the shadows as the Recognizer’s light just misses them.

Tron looks at the drill and once the Recognizer is away, he speaks.

“If that drill goes down and hits the oil…”

“We’ll lose all our power.”

Tron looks to him, “Our _lives._ With what Tesler’s planning, that drill will cause a massive explosion that will _destroy_ Argon.”

Beck stands from his kneeling position and walks over, “So we kill the drill.”

He stops beside Tron, “What do I do? Blast through those guards? Take it out?”

“You wouldn’t make it.” Tron says bluntly.

“Hey…”

“You wouldn’t. You need to enter through the tunnels.”

Beck tenses, eyes wide, and looks over to Tron, “The tunnels?”

Tron doesn’t seem to notice his change in expression, “Yes.”

He pulls out a large familiar weapon and sets the detonation.

“Plant this on the drill to cause a meltdown. When it goes critical, make sure you’re far away.”

He hands it to Beck, who takes it with both hands carefully. He looks down to it.

_Might as well tell him._

He looks back up, “Tron, these tunnels….the Argon Race is about to start… _inside them_.”

Tron’s expression doesn’t change, “Then go. Now. Stop that drill or nobody will be finishing that race.”

He nods, “Right.” He carefully pockets the bomb, making sure the detonation won’t start, before rushing back towards his bike. He has to move quickly, before any explosions can happen.

* * *

 

He skids to a stop at a spot in the tunnels. He gets off, and pulls out the map of the tunnels.

Alone in the tunnels, his voice echoes as he sighs and says, “It should be here.”

He glances up as he puts away the map, but his gaze prolongs as he notices the opening and the orange glow coming from outside the tunnel.

“…or up there.”

With a grunt, he jumps up and grabs the edge of the rock edge. His legs swing as he pulls up his body weight and brings his feet up to be set on the rock. He climbs with much more ease, tracing his hand over the mask locks to make sure they are in place.

Finally, he rests his arms on the top as he pulls up to see his guess was correct. The large drill towers over him and he can practically see the inside part of the drill moving every second through the sheer glass cover. He sighs and pulls out the bomb, “I hope you pack a punch.”

A shadow looms over him suddenly. He looks up to see the turnkey guard, who uses the long staff to knock him off the edge.

His back hits the ground of the tunnel with a grunt, the bomb falling out of his grip. The sword on his back was an uncomfortable protection, but he didn’t worry about it as the bomb drops a couple feet away from him and the detonation starts.

He yells slightly as the guard almost lands on him. He can’t move away fully and without the balance, he falls on his back again. But before he can move, the guard sets a foot on his chest. He gives an ominous laugh as he holds the staff just above him.

The guard swings down but Beck’s reflexes are in overdrive as he pulls out the sword in time for it to collide with the staff. It sends a shock through his body, but he’s able to kick the guard off him. The guard falls to the ground and Beck quickly stands, tearing off after the bomb.

The guard picks up a piece of rubble and throws it at Beck. It hits him in the middle of the back of the left knee cap and he crumples, just missing the bomb. Beck gets to his feet shakily as the guard swings at him with his fist and continues at a relentless pace. Beck trips over his own feet and continues scooting back from the advancing guard, growing farther and farther from the bomb whose detonation countdown was getting faster and faster.

_Enough of this._

The guard chops down but Beck grabs his wrist and knocks him away. The guard grunts as he hits the ground. He begins to get up when Beck manages to heft the heavy staff and swing. The guard yells as he falls into unconscious on the floor, finally leaving the Renegade alone.

Beck drops the staff with a CLANK as he realizes the beeping countdown has grown even faster.

“The bomb.” He breathes and he races towards it. He jumps and slides on his front towards it. His mask falls off as he grabs the bomb in his hands. He ignores the large white helmet as he quickly disables the countdown. He gives out a sigh as the time stops and he allows himself to relax. Any longer and he would’ve been hidden in pieces among the rubble.

He recomposes himself, putting back on his mask and making sure it is locked in place before climbing up again.

This time he’s met with no opposition and sneaks around as he hears a familiar oily voice.

“Paige may have tolerated your incompetence, but I won’t.”

Pavel is walking in front of all the workers grouped together, giving a big speech of some sort that Beck could care less about.

“That’s right there’s a new boss in charge: me.”

As he turns to the guards, Beck runs past in his blind spot and up to the base of the drill.

“That’s right, you’re looking at him_ the big cheese.”

Beck begins to climb up and is surprised no one has noticed him yet. But he finds himself struggling to hold back laughter as he listens to Pavel.

“The head honcho. King of the hill! NUMERO UNO!”  
By now Beck is almost to the top and he stops. Gracefully, he flips over the edge and kneels next to the top, taking out the bomb.  He activates it again, and turns to leave, when a green light catches his eye. He turns to the city and sees the green spotlight he knows so well from his childhood memories.

* * *

 

“Zed.” He breathes.

The race is about to start.

At the tunnel’s start, gathers a large crowd. Among them, seven people stand out; one announcer, six racers.

Among the crowd of cheering people is Mara, but she isn’t cheering. She watches with worry as Zed stands in the lineup of racers, next to his bike. He gives her a reassuring look through the crowd.

_I’ll be okay._

“ **Welcome** ,” The announcer begins and Zed turns his attention back towards the front, “ **to the Argon Race. The only rule: _there are no rules_.”**

On Zed glances over to his left to see Bartik smirk at this. He holds a set face as he turns back towards the announcer in white, the Siren.

 **“Racers** ,” She pulls apart the large staff she was holding above her head to show two flags. She holds them out on either side of her, “ **Start your engines.”**

The green light underneath her disappears and all the racers climb onto their bike before they take off, going past the unflinching Siren. She only turns her head as one of the racers stumbles, and falls.

“WHOA!” he hits the ground with a THUD. Grunting, he looks up at the racers, “Can I get a do-over?”

Bartik looks over to Hopper, who grins with a chuckle and holds a thumb up, “Yeah!”

One down, three to go.

* * *

 

Beck lands on the ground gracefully from his jump off the drill and takes off into the safety of the entrance into the tunnel. He sits down against the wall, panting.

His bike is gone, off to who-knows-where. But he looks over to see a four-wheeler but its brand of work is too slow. He looks around the tunnel. Seeing nothing else, he turns back to the four-wheeler.

“Oh, great.”

He climbs on and is able to jump off the small cleff of the tunnel but its wheels squeal and the engine protests when he tries to go faster. He’s braced on the top, bent forward, urging it to go faster.

“Come _on!_ Is that all you’ve got?”

_I’ve got to get there BEFORE the bomb explodes! I can’t afford to have my best friend die!_

But the bike, being the inanimate object that it is, doesn’t care and continues at the same pace as before.

On the other side of the tunnel, Zed leads the race, all the other bikers neck-and-neck with each other far behind him. Smirking, he zoomed on.

Bartik and Hopper come from the back end of the clump of bikers and get on either side of competitor number 3. Hopper nudged his bike into the number 3’s, causing him to bump Bartik. Quickly, Bartik reaches out and takes the opportunity to cause havoc to the exposed parts of the bike. The duo zoom ahead as number 3’s bike shakes before losing balance and falling on it’s side. Hopper laughs and gives Bartik a thumb up before they pursue their next target.

* * *

 

Paige walks the dark tunnel, alone with her thoughts. This is where her anger had taken her, and now that she’s calm, she decides to give herself a couple more minutes of peace before she returns to Argon.

That is, until she sees the roll of paper on the ground in front of her. She kneels down and picks it up, unrolling it.

It’s a map. One of the tunnels. While most of the map consists of smooth, neat lines and coordinates, tight, slightly sloppy handwriting works around a point near the top of the map. She can only but guess what the point is. The harder part is figuring out who and why….

“It…It was the Renegade.”

Paige looks up to the guard. He’s leaning against the wall in pain, and he moves like he’s sore.

“What?”

But she doesn’t really need affirmation on this. For as the guard slinks away, she stands, gripping the map.

_I swear to you, Renegade, I will find you and bring you down before you can cause any more havoc to this city._

She glances around. The guard hadn’t had any mode of transportation.

And yet….there’s a bike, just in the dark. She can see it. Sighing, she shakes her head. She doesn’t like to take what doesn’t belong to her but….

She pulls it out of the dark before climbing on and taking off towards the entrance of the tunnels.

* * *

 

Beck is crossing the bridge and skids to a stop suddenly as he hears it.

The sound of the engines roaring as bikes race.

“Oh no…I’m too late…”

He immediately shakes himself, _no! There has to be a way!_

_Think fast Beck…._

And in that moment, one of the most destructive ideas of his entire life pops into his head.

Restarting the engine, he guns off, dropping two handfuls of small objects onto the ground. Once he is on the other side of the bridge, these handfuls explode, and the bridge crumbles.

* * *

 

They come upon her quickly. Her, as in the next racer. Her eyes are pinpointed on the road ahead when Hopper pokes her. She looks to him to see him point ahead again. She looks back to see the large rock in her path. It’s too late to brake so when she hits the rock, her bike flips, and she screams as it falls on top of her.

“Three down; one to go!” Bartik calls as he and Hopper gain onto Zed.

Zed glances up as they come on either side of him.  Bartik pulls out his jousting spear, “You ready to go down?”

Zed smirks and presses a button on his handlebars. The engine revs before he shoots off ahead of them.

“WHOOHOO!”

Both Bartik and Hopper are shocked by this twist in events.

However, when Zed taunts with “SEE YA LADIES!” Bartik reattaches his jousting spear to his bike and the two chase after him.

Zed’s got a pretty decent length on them. He smirks in satisfaction as he keeps a steady lead.

However, when he turns the next bend, he yells in alarm as he rushes to stop himself.

He comes to a stop just in front of the big pile of rubble. Behind him, Bartik and Hopper stop as well. He glances back to them in confusion, but his head snaps back to the pile as a voice resounds out.

“This race is over!”

On top of the rubble, a figure in white stands that makes Zed’s blood boil.

“What do you care what we do?” He calls to the Renegade.

The outlaw says nothing; instead he jumps down from the pile in front of Zed, who gets off his bike.

“There’s a drill at the end of this tunnel with _a bomb_ on it. When it goes off, an _inferno_ will rip through here.”

He walks past Zed, towards Bartik and Hopper, and points back to where they had come from, “Now _go!_ ”

Bartik, whose arms are crossed, scoffs, “I don’t have _time_ to be messing with you, _Renegade_ ….so we’re gonna go.” He resituates on his bike and Hopper follows as Zed begins to sputter.

“What?!? But what about the race?!?” He whines.

“What does it matter?” Bartik says and starts off.

“You were losing anyway!” Hopper calls back.

“No! I wasn’t…”

He sighs in frustration.

“A bomb, huh?”

Beck turns and mentally curses himself.

_You idiot!_

Paige stands atop the rubble, hand on her waist.

“I’ll take care of that. Thanks for the tip.”

She jumps off the pile and disappears, where on the other side, Beck can hear her engine start and he knows he needs to move quickly.

“Sorry about this.”

“What_?”

In a quick movement, Zed’s pushed on the ground and Beck climbs on the bike before squealing off away from the pile.

“HEY! I built that you know!”  
Beck ignores him and does a u-turn before he accelerates and zooms right past Zed. He uses his momentum to use a piece of smooth rubble to fly over the pile.

“Oh…Be careful!”

Again his words go unheard, and he turns to see he’s alone with an old fourwheeler.

He sighs, and his shoulders slump, “Great.”

* * *

 

On the drill, soldiers work at a furious pace. No one rests.

Well, except Pavel and one soldier.

“The drill isn’t going fast enough.” Pavel insists, invading the soldier’s personal space, making him uncomfortable. “SPEED IT UP, YOU IMBECILE!”

And in that moment, far above them, the bomb melts through the wall and falls into the drill, heating up the interior much faster than what was designed for as the wall detoriates.

The drill slows to a stop, making everyone stop and turn in confusion. The soldier looks over Pavel’s shoulder, causing the commander to turn to the commotion.

_ Danger. Energy core unstable. Please evacuate all personnel. _

Pavel, who was staring up at the drill the entirety of this message, finally speaks quietly.

“Get back to work.”

“Sir?”

Pavel turns to the soldier, “If it were serious there would be a_”

A piercing alarm begins and the resuming workers stop to look at the drill again.

_ Core meltdown in 30, 29, 28… _

“….Countdown.”

* * *

 

He can see her just ahead of him.

He’s caught up this far and now he closes the gap.

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” He calls as he catches up.

“I’m bringing order to the city, I don’t think you know what _you’re_ doing.”

She slams into him, sending him skidding into a tunnel opposite of the one she takes. He quickly gains control and bites back his frustration.

_Does she not understand?!?_

The tunnels converge into one again and she is ahead of him. Gritting his teeth, he accelerates to catch her. She spins down one tunnel and he follows her just as sharply.

_She knows her way through the tunnels well. She’s got to have a map; she’s too new to the city to know the tunnels well._

He sees her glance back as he reaches the end of her bike. After a moment, she jilts the end to his him but he directs up the side of the wall to avoid the touch. The momentum brings him back down and he slams into her side. It doesn’t throw her off, but it certainly catches her attention.

“You hear that?” For some reason, he sounds desperate. “If that bomb detonates while we’re in these tunnels, we’ll both die. I’M TRYING TO SAVE YOUR LIFE!”

 _What do you know?_ She thinks. _He’s losing it._

She rams back into him with a yell before she calls, “It doesn’t need saving.”

 _You don’t understand!_ He wants to scream at her, but he knows that will only make her angrier so he just focuses on keeping up with her.

There. The tunnel end is just ahead and they can both see the light of the drill. But what is that sound…?

Paige pulls out first and skids to a stop in front of the empty drill. The Renegade is just behind her and the noise finally registers.

_ Five, four, three, two… _

Beck feels his blood roaring in his ears as the counting suddenly stops. He sighs. Maybe it won’t go off….

He instantly regrets this thought, though, as the sirens resume suddenly.

_ Energy core overload. _

His breath returns in a rush and he instantly turns his bike around.

“Go! GO!” He screams and he sees her turn her bike as well. They tear off and suddenly Beck hears a _BOOM_ and the heat chases after them.

 _Come on._ He forces himself to think fast and positive. _If we can stay ahead of the fire, we can get out without being burned._

He lurches up slightly as the bike jumps and all around him, fire explodes upward from the descending tunnels. It’s hot and he glances back to see commander Paige press closer to the bike as she forces herself to go faster and ignore the heat.

“THIS WAY!” He calls before leading the way through a small hole in a blockage. She does so.

“KEEP GOING! IT WON’T HOLD FOR LONG!”

Sure enough, just moments later, the blockage explodes outward and the fire returns with a greater vengeance.

The fire touches the edge of Paige’s bike. She glances back but ignores the flames threatening to lick up her legs and consume her.

But Beck doesn’t ignore it. He slows to keep pace with her. And in that moment, he realizes how he knows that bike.

_She took my bike?_

Shaking himself mentally, he yells, “Your bike’s not fast enough! Get on!”

She gives him a look of disgust and scoffs before yelling, “In your dreams!” She turns away to focus on avoiding the fire.

She’s thrown off by his persistency when he slams into her and grabs her arm. “ _Get. On.”_

With surprising strength, he pulls her off his old bike and onto the one he’s riding. Without the support of a rider, the other bike falls over and is consumed by the fire.

Beck flips up the cap and pushes the overdrive button ( _Thank God for Zed putting in an overdrive_ ) before they shoot off, distancing themselves from the inferno.

Paige looks back for a moment before pressing closer to the bike and grabbing Beck around his chest as he navigates through the maze of tunnels. When they are in the clear, Beck turns his head back slightly.

“I just saved your life. A thanks would be nice.”

Anger surges through Paige. She can’t believe him. After he practically pulls her off her bike, he expects her to be _thankful_?

So instead, she lets go, clasps her fists together and grits, “Thanks.” Then she begins to beat him on the back with her fists. She hears him grunt in pain and alarm as he works to continue driving steadily. He reaches his arm out to stop her but she grabs it and twists it behind his back in an awkward angle. He grits his teeth, but puts aside his anger and looks up. At the sight, he pulls out his gun.

“Really?” Paige snaps when she sees it, “You need _that_?”

“It’s not for you!” He aims forward and shoots multiple times. He makes several holes where rocks move out of the way to make a small hole for them to pass through.

“Saved your life.” He says as he puts the gun away, “ _Again_.”

She bites back a groan and pulls out her gun.

“Let’s finish this.” She holds the gun next to his head. The Renegade barely looks to her.

“We may not have to.” He looks back as she almost loses her balance, causing her to turn and see the fire. Nervous, she presses back down again and lock her hands around his chest as he accelerates yet again. He stares straight ahead and Paige holds him tight as she watches the fire. It’s catching up, licking at the wheels…

And then suddenly they’re flying, the pavement leaving them.

Then the bike hits the side and the Renegade pulls on the brakes. They squeal as it skids and she hears him grunting from both the final flames that had touched them and the effort to stop. They hit a bend into a flat surface where the bike leans. Paige flies off and hits the ground with a THUD as her gun clatters away. She slides for a moment, but is able to get to her knees and look up to the masked rebel.

He’s watching her, but once he fully notices she’s looking back, he looks down as he sets the bike again. “See ya around.”

And like that, he leaves her alone.

And she watches him go.

Not mad. If anything….glad. She hated the fact that he kept asking for some sort of thanks for saving her. And yet…from the whole experience she learned things about him she didn’t know.

 _He’s proud._ It’s obvious by the way he kept thinking he deserved some form of thanks from her.

_He thinks he’s supposed to be some hero. Like Tron, who he’s not._

But what about those times when…

 _No. That’s him trying to show off. Besides, if he was sentimental, that will only get him six feet under. Or more of a psycho maniac than he already is._  

She looks up as she hears a chopper. That must her backup, here to take her to the base. She can imagine the look of satisfaction on Tesler’s face when she tells him her plan.

* * *

 

Everyone in the garage is gone. Everyone except Zed, who sits in a pile of parts, working on another bike.

“Hey.”

Zed looks up to see Beck.

“Mara told me what happened.” Beck continues. “How ya doin’?”

“…I’m okay.”

“Abel got you working late?”

“Nah, just makin’ a new bike. Which, thanks to the _Renegade_ , is how I’m spending my free time. He stole my old one.”

Beck feels himself glance from side to side, “I-I just think he’s trying to make things better.”

“Then how come everytime he tries to ‘make things better’, things only get _worse_ for me?!?”

_I know, Zed._

_I’m sorry._

Beck kneels down next to Zed, “Zed, there’s something I want to tell you.”

Zed notes Beck’s change in tone and waits, “Yeah?”

Beck looks down, closes his eyes, and sighs through his nose. After a moment, he looks up and a slight smile is on his face, “Word around town is you would’ve won the race.”

Zed’s shoulders slump and he looks down, “Thanks.”

Beck stands and walks away. Once his back is to Zed, his encouraging smile disappears as he bites his lip. He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

_You couldn’t even tell him…_

As Beck leaves, Zed continues working in silence.

“ ‘Sup, Zed?”

Zed looks up to see Bartik and Hopper. He stands and crosses his arms, “What do _you_ want?”

“Let me get this straight….”  Hopper says, “you _made_ this…and the other one_from the race.”

“You mean the one the Renegade _stole?_ Yeah.”

“Um…” Hopper hesitates, “Can you make more?”

“What does it look like I’m _doing_?”

Hopper relaxes as he laughs before commenting to Bartik, “I like this guy.” Then he turns to Zed, “You got attitude.”

“We could use someone like you.” Bartik adds in.

“For what?”

“To stop the Renegade.” Zed looks up as commander Paige joins them from the shadows. “I’m putting together a team to hunt him down.”

She gives him a level gaze, “Are you in?”

* * *

 

“ _Citizens of Argon_.” Tesler’s voice booms throughout the square where everyone is gathered. “ _The nightmare is over._

_The plot to sap your energy has been foiled, and we know the culprit._

_It was the work of a miscreant…who wears this_ profanity _, the mark of a traitor…”_

The square-made T inside a circle appears on every screen visible to the eye. “ _The mark of_ Tron _.”_

As if Tesler sensed a fear among the crowd, he continues, “ _But fear not…Tron is dead._ ”

From the crowd below, Zed smirks as right next to him, Mara glares at this.

 _“And I assure you this impostor, this….this…_ renegade _will be brought to justice!”_

The goal is complete; the crowd cheers their approval to this statement, to the smeared name of a supposed dead man.

_“Never forget: we are here for you!”_

Among the cheers, a chant of “Tesler, Tesler” makes the general smirk as he steps away from the mike and watches the now yellow panels give all the people a savage look.

“Excellent work Paige.” He finally says, “Any more ideas?”

As he passes by her, she straightens herself in pride and casts a smirk and a look to a sulky Pavel, “I have a few.”

With that, she turns to follow the general in.

As the cheering continues, from a farther place above, Beck and Tron watch the scene. Beck sits with his knees at his chest and his head on top of his knees. Millions of thoughts run through his head, asking why they thought this way and why they would believe Tesler….

Tron puts a hand on Beck’s shoulder, causing him to look up.

“If we prevail in this conflict….they’ll understand.”

Beck watches Tron leave before he gets up and follows his mentor. He had to be right. Maybe they would understand. In time.


	8. Chapter Seven- Identity Crisis

The noise jars him awake, but he doesn’t open his eyes right away. He can’t. It hurts too much.

Footsteps echo loudly in his ears as they ring and he groans as he feels his hands cup around his ears as he curls in on himself slightly. Finally, the footsteps fade into a ringing silence in which he feels enough strength to open his eyes.

_What…_

_What happened?_

He lifts his head and grabs at something pricking his neck. Grunting, he grips the object and pulls it out. In shock, he drops the syringe and backs away.

_What is that?_

Cautiously, he picks it up and examines it closely. He can see a liquid inside, milky white, but nothing comes to mind immediately when he sees it.

_Tron._

The thought throws him off at first.

_Tron might know._

Shakily, he gets to his feet. He puts the syringe in his pocket and he feels plain fabric.

_Just fabric?_

He searches both pockets and the truth hits him like a brick wall.

_My I.D._

_It’s gone._

* * *

 

“Do you remember who did this to you?”

Beck looks up from the ground, “No. I don’t remember anything that happened.”

“No of course not.” Tron mutters to himself and opens one of his cabinets, searching for something.

“Here.” He finally comes back and tosses Beck something small before moving over to where the syringe was being scanned for any sort of hint that would lead to . Beck catches the flimsy thing and looks at it.

It’s an I.D. With his picture and his information. But one seems off….

“This isn’t my handwriting.” He says, looking at the tight script handwriting, much unlike his slightly sloppy penmanship.

“That’s because it’s a fake. You need to have some sort of identification. Otherwise, Tesler’s guards will pick you up as a Stray in no time.”

Beck continues looking down at the fake identification. His face was a blank slate, and he stared calmly at the camera. It was….strange. It was him…but it didn’t seem like him….

“Found something.” Tron says finally.

Beck looks up, before he gets up and stands next to Tron.

“What is it?”

Tron pulls up the chemical combination, “Do you know what this is?”

“…..No?”

“This is Lethonom. It’s relatively new.”

“Relatively?”

“It’s not supposed to be on the market. When they were testing it on humans, the side effects were too severe, so it was pulled off the shelves. But through the black market, people were still able to grab ahold of the concoction and still can to this day.”

“What does it do?”

Tron doesn’t answer him but continues, “Our best bet is _PIurgos_ because there are multiple leads to the_”

“Tron.”

Tron stops at his apprentice’s tone. He continues working though.

“The side effects include dizziness, short-term amnesia, sudden loss of awareness, and brain degeneration leading to death.”

Beck goes silent and the air becomes tense with shock.

“You’ll become the very definition of a Stray.”

“How….” Beck searches for the words, “How long do I have before I do become a Stray?”

“Not long.” Tron allows himself to continue his work, “We’re already losing valuable time.”

“And….if I do become a Stray?”

“Your memory will fade. Everything you’ve seen or experienced…you’ll forget.”

Tron doesn’t voice the small but life-ending part of the diagnosis. Maybe if he doesn’t voice it, Beck won’t think about it. But he barely turns his gaze and sees Beck looking down. He quickly averts his gaze back to his work.

“So I really screwed up. I put you, my friends, _and_ the revolution in danger.”

Tron doesn’t answer, but instead moves over to where he transfers the coordinates.

“Hey this is the part where you’re supposed to cheer your friend on.”

Tron doesn’t even stop.

_Is that what he considers this?_

_Friendship?_

_No._

“I’d rather just find the cure.”

“Okay….so we’re not friends. Got it. Where do we start?”

Tron picks up his helmet-like mask and slips it on his head as he speaks.

“There’s a black market for Lethonom and memory compacts but you can’t go there alone.” Tron looks to his apprentice, and says in a distorted voice, “Not in your condition.”

* * *

 

“I wonder if he’s really Tron, like they’re saying.”

_Oh great. Here we go again._

Mara is doing this _again_. Talking about the Renegade like he wasn’t even there. She continued like this, even when he made it clear he was _not_ a fan of the Renegade.

“I kinda hope he isn’t. I like his whole… _aura of mystery_.”

_Oh God._

_“Mystery?_ ” He slides out from underneath the car. “Yeah right. More like scared to show his face.”

Both look up as they hear laughter.

“Uh…what are _they_ doing here?”

Zed looks to where Mara is looking. Bartik is watching them, arms crossed, and Hopper gets up from a crouching position to look at them. Zed sputters out an excuse before joining them. They quietly lead him towards the front of the garage before Bartik speaks.

“Commander Paige’s Renegade taskforce is fully operational.”

_Oh yeah._

Zed looks down. He hadn’t been conclusive, but he had promised to help if they needed anything.

He just didn’t expect them to come to him this fast…

“This could be a big deal for _all of us_ if we catch him.”

“Yeah....” He thinks back to Mara’s look as he had walked off with them, “About that…”

Bartik throws an arm around him, “I want you to build a bike mod; a weapon that could stop the Renegade in a chase. You do that, and _this_ _” he puts an army armband in his hand, like the ones they were wearing. “_is yours.”

Zed looks down at it.

“Look, I agree the Renegade is making things worse in Argon but_”

“What did I tell you?” Hopper cuts over him, pushing off the wall, “I knew he didn’t have the _guts_ ….”

“The Renegade stole your bike.” Bartik says, beginning to follow Hopper, “Do you like being a laughingstock?”

Zed turns to where he had seen Mara walk to. She’s with a group of girls, who were giggling and talking in front of the now larger-than-life poster of the Renegade, with every single detail known about him present. He bites the inside of his cheek. They could be laughing at him….

And he really wants to Mara look at him like she did the Renegade…with admiration.

Maybe…just maybe…

“Wait!” He turns to the retreating figures and they stop.

“I’m in.”

* * *

 

“Purgos!” Tron calls over the wind to his apprentice’s bike, “The original settlement of Argon.”

He doesn’t know if Beck is actually and it wouldn’t matter. He probably already knew this; it was meant to distract himself and Beck.

“Before the war this was a boomtown. Now it’s a garbage heap. We’ll start with the pawnshops!”

He sees Beck nod and he leads the way into the district. People barely bat an eye as they pass, and seem to ignore them even more so when they stop and decide to walk.

“This place is lively.” Beck comments dryly as he follows Tron.

“Most people here have something to hide.” He replies lowly, “No one knows who to trust, so strangers are met at no more than a need-to-know basis.”

“That reminds me of you sometimes.”

Tron refrains from answering as he stops at a door.

“I’ll ask all the questions. You just look around and see if you can find anything. We’ll be able to find anything faster if we split up.”

Beck nods, hoping his mentor is right….

And yet three shops later, as he pulls up one of the flaps to find nothing, he’s beginning to doubt the integrity of the statement.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Tron growls.

The shop owner, a blond, ruddy-faced man, looks away from Beck, who’s still searching, to the masked stranger.

“Look, I don’t know if I heard you right…are you asking me if I have Lethonom? _Real Lethonom?_ ”

Tron’s arms are crossed and he leans forward against the bullet-proof glass, “I know you have a secret stash somewhere.”

The shop owner laughs, “Look, I don’t know what you think…but I run a clean shop here. If you want… _illegal_ goods….you’ll have to try elsewhere.”

Tron looks ready to break down the glass (or at least attempt to) when Beck grabs his shoulder. Tron looks to him.

“Please. We’ve been to three shops already. This is very important. If you know anything, you have to tell us!”

Beck and the shop owner meet gaze for a moment, Beck’s eyes desperate.

_Beck needs to learn emotions are only going to get the best of him when it comes to obtaining information….._

The shop owner sighs and shakes his head as he looks down, “I know when I see a guy in trouble…”

He looks back up, “I’ll help you. Let me ask around.”

“We’ll come with you.” Tron insists.

“ _Alone_.” Beck stops Tron as he senses him tense. The shop owner shrugs, “Sorry, it’s just how it’s gotta be.”

He begins to get up, “There’s an energy canteen around the corner. I’ll meet you there.

My name’s Kobol.”

He meets their gaze, “You know, it’s good you found me. In Purgos, you can’t trust _anyone_.”

Beck nods, “Thank you for helping us.”

The shop owner nods back before disappearing. Tron leads the way out into the street and people all around them are wrapped into their own business. Yet they continue on, until they are in a quiet alleyway behind the street.

Tron takes off his helmet, “He was lying.”

Beck’s face instantly shows he’s upset.

“You mean Kobol? The _only_ solid lead we have so far?”

_Come on….Tron, he’s not dangerous…._

“If it’s a lead at all.”

_What is that supposed to mean?_

Tron stops and turns to him, “Beck, in case we don’t find the cure, I need to prepare you for the side effects.”

“This should be fun.” Beck mutters.

“It’s like a glitch. You’ll have random…fits that come without warning. One moment you’re normal; the next you’re shaking and can’t remember your own name. But you should recover. At least…the first few times.”

Beck, who had been looking, slowly meets Tron’s gaze, “And…after the first few times?”

“…Permanent amnesia.” He finally words, “You won’t know who you are anymore.”

 _Like the Strays._ Beck thinks. The people who roam the streets, confused, empty. Alone. They’re like children, and while they were usually left alone, since the Occupation showed up, they were being picked up on sight…and killed.

“Well…we’re not going to let it come to that.” Beck finally decides. Uncertainty begins to creep on him, but he shakes it away, “We’re going to find the person who did this to me, get the cure, and put him out of business.”

“Beck.” Tron slips his helmet back on suddenly and puts a firm hand on his shoulder.

“We’re being followed.”

Beck looks around to see people in hoods and masks come out of the shadows.

“You mean _surrounded.”_

Tron leans close and says lowly, “Let me handle this.”

Beck gives an almost invisible nod and Tron turns to the advancing strangers.

“We’re not here to cause trouble.”

Beck shifts so that his back is to Tron and not any of the strangers. Tron glances to him barely before he continues.

“We’re just passing through, that’s all.”

The circle is silent, and doesn’t respond. Instead, they part as one man walks through their ranks.

“You _passed_ into our territory.” He stops in front of them, hitting a large crowbar against his palm. “This street belongs to me. _And you’ll_ pay _for trespassing.”_

The crowbar hits his hand again and this time, all his members arm themselves with a wide assortment of weapons, ranging from knives and guns to crowbars and metal bats. Beck tenses and he and Tron stand back-to-back watching the new threats.

In an instant, they rush towards the two. Tron pulls out two knives and sprints forward and Beck goes the opposite direction, cursing himself for leaving his weapons at Tron’s base. And so he plays to defense.

Tron disarms smoothly and quickly, not even having to use the blade to stop them. Meanwhile, Beck keeps stumbling away as one man keeps swinging his bat haphazardly. He ducks and when the man swings too far out, he goes in with his elbow to his attacker’s face, before knocking his feet out from under him. He gets up quickly and meets his next opponent. He kicks him away but almost trips over his own feet as he turns and almost gets hit with a fist. He’s able to dodge but is easily overwhelmed as more men come to his opponent’s side. Panicking, he looks around for some way to defend himself. He sees a board and quickly picks it up, holding it out in front of him as a shield. However the force that breaks through it knocks him off his feet and he hits the ground roughly. The now small group of men closes in as Beck tries to regain his senses. He manages up a glare when suddenly pain streaks through his brain. He grabs at his temples and when he lifts his eyes again the world is almost a blur. He’s shaking…or he thinks. But these men…

Who are they?

“What’s going on?”

Tron looks up as he sees Beck is shaking, and his eyes are wide. Grunting, he begins to push his way out of the mess he’s gotten himself into, but they are almost holding him back.

“Where am I?!?”

The gang leader gives a curt nod, “Take him.”

_No!_

Both minds think this in unison as Beck tries to back away and Tron fights even harder.

“N-No!” Beck screams at them, “What are you doing!?!”

They don’t answer, but tower above him. One man grabs his chin roughly and forces him to look up where he moves his grip down to Beck’s neck. He feels his breath catch and begins gasping, trying to pull away. The man’s other hand reaches above him, but he barely sees it now. The light above is white, tranquil.

And someone is descending upon them quickly.

“Who…?”

“What?”

The man lets go of him and turns but is too late as the figure in white kicks them away. They land in a perfect crouch before lunging out. They men cry out and the figure grunts as they kick, punch, and knock away any of Beck’s intruders. They flip back before throwing something small down, encasing the whole area in smoke. Beck’s able to shakily get to his feet as he hears the confusion of the other men. Yet he starts when someone grabs his wrist and begins to pull him along.

“Come on!” The voice yells as they pass another figure completely in black. They look up before following the two out of the confusion of the smoke and around the corner until they stop against a building.

Beck’s still shaking, but as he takes a full breath, he finds with satisfying relief he no longer feels as though he was wasting away, like nothing was true. Tron passes in front of him to follow the figure in white up the ladder. After another sigh, Beck follows.

It’s quiet on the rooftop. While the figure in white walks away, Tron turns around and grabs Beck’s arm.

“I think I just had my first fit.” He says in a numb voice and Tron pulls him up.

“We should keep moving.” Is all Tron says before walking away. Beck’s eyes follow him before his shoulders slump.

“Well I’m glad you care.”

Tron ignores Beck’s dry comment and cautiously prowls up to the figure like a panther. “Why’d you help us?” He growls.

The figure takes off their hood to show their face. _She_ meets their gaze with light blue irises of a soft intensity. Her dark hair is cut close to her scalp and her dark skin softly contrasts the white uniform. A Siren, it seems. But yet, it’s unusual for Sirens to interfere so why….

“Because you needed it.”

Beck looks up at the voice and stops for a moment.

_Wow…._

“You’re welcome by the way.” The woman put her hand on her hip before evenly meeting their gazes, “I’m Lux.”

Beck steps forward, “I-I’m Beck.” He put a hand on Tron’s shoulder, “And this is my…friend.”

Tron gives a small sound of confusion and Beck shrugs and mutters, “What? I’m…improvising.”

Lux gives them one last look before turning away and walking to the roof’s edge, “I’ve seen people like you before, Beck.”

“W-what do you mean?” He shakes his head. Something about her….

She looks back to him calmly, “Strays.”

Beck sets his jaw and takes a step forward, “I’m not a Stray yet.”

She gives a small laugh, “Well, it’s only a matter of time before you do become one.”

_Uh…._

He can’t think of anything to say, and she saves him for it.

“But…I can help you. I know my way around Purgos.”

And in a graceful style, she jumps off the edge of the roof and disappears.

Beck sighs and smiles, “If my memory’s going, at least the last thing I’ll remember will be her.”

Beck walks to where Lux jumped and Tron follows.

“Focus Beck.”

“Oh believe me, I’m completely focused.”

Tron refrains from contradicting the statement and just follows his apprentice off the roof.

* * *

 

Back at the garage, hours later, it’s raining.

“You still haven’t told me what this is for.” Mara says, walking alongside Zed as the umbrella protects her from the rain. Zed had been gone most of the afternoon, so she was surprised when he rushed in eagerly to get her.

“Allow me to introduce my masterpiece.” He pulls off the cover to show a long barrel of a weapon. Mara starts in surprise.

“Eventually we’ll put it on the front of a bike, but for our test right now…this’ll do.”

He picks up a small control in one hand presses one button. The tires on the bike squeal before it shoots off. Zed then rushes over to the weapon and with two button presses, the weapon charges and then shot one beam. It hits the bike straight in the back and it explodes into multiple pieces.

_It worked…._

Zed throws his hands in the air and gives a loud laugh, “IT WORKED!”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Beck leans impatiently against the wall of the canteen. Tron is sitting and they occasionally glance to each other, not voicing their thoughts.

Finally, Lux returns.

“Okay, I’ve checked with all my contacts and none of them have heard of any exchanges of Letho lately.”

“And Kobol’s a no-show.” Beck notes irritably.

“Beck.” Tron catches Beck’s attention, “There’s a man in the back who seems _awfully_ interested in you. He’s been staring since we walked in.”

Beck sees him alright, the man looking away quickly.

What he doesn’t expect is the flash of his face grinning at him in his mind’s eye.

_“Now’s our chance. Follow me.”_

Quickly, Beck shakes his head, “I think that’s the guy who _conned_ me.”

Lux barely glances back to him, “His name’s Galt; small time thief.”

Galt’s watching them out of the corner of his eye. But after a group of people pass; he’s gone.

Beck starts and Tron gets up.

“He went that way.” Tron starts towards the direction. Beck and Lux make way to follow when Beck falls back.

_“Well, this is where we split up.”_

_“Hey, thanks.”_

_“Don’t thank me yet_”_

“Beck.” Tron touches Beck’s shoulder and his eyes snap open. Tron’s watching him. Beck nods him away, “I’m fine.”

Tron lets go and Beck leads the way quickly down the corridor. He slips through the open door to see Galt pulling on the locked door.

“Galt.”

“NAH!”

He freezes and Beck watches him with intense eyes, “I didn’t get your name last time. When you were drugging me senseless and taking my memories!”

“I d-don’t know you’re talking about.”

Tron says nothing, but holds the dagger up to the thief’s neck.

“Okay, I’ll talk!” The their noticeably pales, “I took his memories, but I don’t have the clip anymore. I swear-!”  
“Who’d you give it to?” Tron growls, not pulling away the blade.

“You’d think I tell you?” He dares to look to them both. “He’s not as polite as you two.”

Then he smirks at Beck, “Everyone’s gonna know your secret, Rene_UGH!”  
He’s cut off and Beck steps away, eyes wide, not only at the close reveal….

but also at the blade sticking out of his chest. In an instant, he’s gone and the sword pulls away. Tron moves Galt’s body and jerks open the door to see the gang leader from earlier jump onto a bike and zoom off.

“COME ON!” He yells back before slipping through the door and onto his parked bike. Beck follows and Lux slides onto an empty one where they all take chase.

Tron leads the way on pursuit but Beck quickly catches up then speeds past him. The stranger rides a red bike and weaves through rows of poles and other road distractions. The three follow the path easily and Beck forces himself to go even faster. He slams his bike into the killer’s. They look to each other as they break apart, then slam into each other again, this time they both press against the force, trying to knock the other one away. They break apart once to dodge a beam but then slam back together. Beck grits his teeth.

But the stranger is stronger than him and pushes him onto an unfinished ramp.

“Beck!” Tron calls, but he can’t do anything to help his apprentice as the ramp breaks off and Beck begins to soar to the ground. Gritting his teeth, Beck revs the engine and stands up slightly as he tries to level out the bike before he hits the ground. He’s able to do so just slightly and he makes a rough landing. Glad he wasn’t sitting down during the landing, he allows himself to do so now. He instantly speeds up and catches up to the stranger. They barely look back before accelerating again. Beck goes to do so when he screams and his vision goes blurry. Lux sees him start to shake slightly and his bike begins to veer right.

“Beck! Look out!”

She brakes quickly as he hits the guard rail. The back of his bike goes up in the air and he’s thrown off into a lane of abandoned construction. Instantly, she squeals to a stop and climbs over the rail to his limp form. She moves him off his side onto his back, “Beck!”

Tron, who had been catching up to the stranger, glances back as he sees Lux stop. He would’ve continued on, if it weren’t for the fact that he saw her turn Beck over and begin shaking him.

_The fits…_

“Beck!” He squeals on his brakes and forces himself to turn the bike around. The stranger would have to wait. He skids to a stop and runs over, vaulting over the rail and kneeling next to Lux and Beck, the former beginning to show panic on her face.

“He’s not responding!”

Beck, meanwhile, is slowly blinking. His entire face is listless, and he’s barely breathing. Even as Lux shakes him, he remains the same, looking at nothing.

Lux moves as Tron takes her place, shaking him. When Beck still doesn’t respond, he lightly slaps his apprentice’s cheek, hoping to snap him out of the daze.

“It’s not working!” Lux says tensely.

“We need to get him off the street. Do you know anywhere we can go?”

As he says this, he lifts up Beck’s limp body and takes to carrying him. He doubts Beck can function enough to stand in his current state.

Lux looks away in thought, then back up, “My place is not far from here. It’s equipped enough to where maybe we can pull him out of the fit.”

Tron nods and Lux runs over to her bike. Carefully, Tron readjusts Beck onto his bike before he climbs on in front of him. He goes slowly, making sure Beck is steady laying on his back and somewhere along the way, Beck’s eyes slowly close.

* * *

 

Zed picks up a small remain of the bike and turn it over in his hand.

“Wow…that can do a _lot_ of damage.” Mara voices.

Zed stands and turns to her, “Isn’t it _great_?”

Mara does a slight double take as she sees the yellow armband.

“Oh,” her voice has a slight anger to it, “ _this_ is for your friends, Bartik and Hopper, isn’t it?”

Zed shrugs, “They’re on a task force to hunt the Renegade and I’m trying to join.”

He picks up a slightly aggravated tone.

“I know you think the Renegade is helping but he’s not. _This_ _” He gestures to the weapon, “could stop him.”

“Or worse.” Mara’s gaze is critical, “Zed, this could _kill_ him.”

“I…” Zed looks down, then back up, “I’m just trying to do the right thing. They’re coming to see it tomorrow and if they approve of it, it will make things better.”

Mara’s look instantly tells him she disagrees. He can barely stand to see the disappointment in her eyes. She looks away for a moment.

“I didn’t know you were like Bartik and Hopper, but if joining their taskforce is what you want…” She begins to walk back inside, “Best of luck.”

Zed watches her go.

_This isn’t what I wanted._

_I thought she would be glad I was doing something…._

He looks up into the rain, alone.

_Now what?_

* * *

 

Light.

The light is faint against his eyelids and he hears a silence, a peace that is an old friend finally returning. He finally opens to see the scenery is different than he remembered. Last time he checked, he had been on the road, after the guy that killed Galt.

And then….

Beck sighs as one hand goes to his head.

_“Hey! What are you doing?”_

_“I thought you would know not to trust strangers….Beck.”_

“Beck?”

He looks up as Lux comes over to him.

“You alright?”

He nods and begins to sit up on the couch, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“How’s your head?”

“…It’s okay.”

She puts the back of her hand gently to his forehead, as if checking for fever. She seems satisfied with her results, so she gives a light smile, “Good. Now stay sitting for a moment longer.”

Beck obeys as he looks around. The room is large, but simplistic with its neutral colors. He sees Tron in the corner but in that moment, Lux comes back and kneels next to him, setting to work.

“Nice place.” He says finally, “How’d you get it?”

She looks up with another smile as she finishes, “I have my ways.”

She folds up the syringe in a cloth and sighs, her smile fading, “Without any link to the cure, this is the best I can do.”

She stands and walks away again. Beck watches her go, wonder in his eyes and a slight smile.

However, he looks back to Tron, who is looking at something on a small tablet.

“Learn anything about Galt?”

Tron barely glances up, “I was able to go back to the scene and retrieve a copy of his memories before anyone could find him.”

“And?”

“He was _scum_ , which is hardly news.”

When Beck says nothing, Tron continues, pulling up a certain memory, “I did find the memory where he jumped you.”

“…Who’s that?”

Tron looks up to Beck, “Beck it’s….it’s you.”

“What am I doing there?”

Tron sets down the tablet slowly, “You are fighting a revolution.”

Beck looks to him, eyes confused and wide, “What revolution?”

_No…_

“Beck….” Tron starts slowly towards Beck, who backs away. His posture is bent, tense, scared.

“Who’s Beck? Who are _you? Why are you hiding your face?”_

“Beck…” The strange man reaches out towards him but cries out in pain and crumples suddenly. A woman in white puts down a small gun on the counter. Beck slowly backs away again when she puts a gentle hand on his chest. The feeling is calming, welcome almost, so he stops and looks down to her hand.

“It’s okay…it’s okay.”

He looks up to her.

“ _Everything_ will be clear soon. _We’re here to help you.”_

“W-We?” Beck’s hands shake slightly and the woman gently grips them to stop.

They both look up as they hear footsteps. Beck grips the woman’s hands tightly but with her calming and quiet words, he relaxes as a hooded man enters the room. It’s the gang leader from earlier, but Beck doesn’t realize this.

“I told you.” He says, looking down at Tron’s limp form. He takes off his hood.

“Don’t trust _anyone._ ”

And Kobol laughs at the irony in his phrase.

“What’s going on?”

Kobol turns to Beck, whose eyes are still wide.

“Beck…”

“Who?”

“ _You’re_ Beck. That’s _your name._ This man_” He points down at Tron, “has been pulling you along in a kidnap case.”  
“ _Kidnap?_ Why would he kidnap me?”

Kobol sets a hand on Beck’s arm, and the boy’s eyes flick uncertainly to it.

“He’s a part of the so called _uprising_ back in the main part of Argon. He kidnapped you as a hostage to negotiate with the station captain to have some…liberties. Instead, we were sent in to retrieve you.”

“Is he really a bad person?” Beck looks down to Tron.

“He was planning to kill you, Beck. I’d say that would qualify him as a ‘bad person’.”

Beck is silent for a moment longer.

“…Now what?”

Kobol smiles and Lux speaks.

“We’ll take you home. Back to the Occupation. Prepare to leave.”

As Beck leaves for a moment, Kobol leans into Lux, putting a hand on her waist.

“You did well.”

“Thank you.” Lux replies quietly, but stops Kobol’s hand as it travels towards her thigh area.

“No not now. Not with Beck nearby.”

“You owe me.” Kobol hisses, “After all that time you spent, leading him around, the fact that I had to kill Galt. I said you did _well,_ not _great_. I could always send you back to the brothel, where you could be back to always_”

“Okay, I owe you. But you can’t do it right now. I promise I’ll pay you back later.”

Kobol grips before he lets go, “I’m holding you to that.”

And that’s all he says to her before they break apart as Beck comes back in the room. Kobol’s smile returns and he throws an arm around Beck’s shoulder and leads him away, leaving Lux alone with the unconscious Tron.

* * *

 

Tron wakes as he feels tightness around his wrists.

_Handcuffs._

He silently curses at this. Yet he stays attentive as Lux kneels in front of him. She puts her hands on his head and moves it, looking for some way to pull off the mask. Tron secretly applauds himself; he’s glad he remembered to lock down the helmet so it couldn’t be pulled off easily.

She sighs and stands up, looking to Beck and Kobol, “His helmet won’t come off.”

Beck turns fully and Kobol barely glances back as he says, “Forget that. He’s nothing. We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

He smiles as he turns back around and gestures forward for Beck, “See that light?”

Beck turns to the large pillar of light.

“That’s where your friends are going to meet us. We’re taking you home.” Kobol reminds him and Beck quietly nods.

“ _Beck!”_

He turns at his name to see the masked stranger is panting and leaning as far out as he can against the cuffs.

“That is an emergency beacon to summon the _military!_ They’re turning you in to the Occupation!”

“I’m part of the military.” Beck lifts his head as if to put himself above the stranger’s nonsense. “Kobol told me.”

_No no no…._

“Beck _no!_ He’s _lying_ to you!”

Lux crosses from beside over to Beck, “Don’t listen to him. You’re an officer in Tesler’s army. He _kidnapped_ you.”

She puts a hand gently up to his face and smiles slightly when she sees him relax. She’s always had that effect on him, even from first sight.

“If you go back with Kobol, everything will be _okay_.”

“Oh, she’s lying to you, Beck!” Tron pulls against his cuffs again, “They both are!”

“Enough!” Kobol snaps, and starts towards him with a gun. Lux grabs his wrist and Kobol’s gaze snaps back to her.

“If you kill him, you could lose Beck’s trust.” Lux mutters, throwing her gaze back towards Beck.

“How _dare_ you question me.” He grips her wrist tightly, “You little_”

He stops as he realizes she’s grunting in pain and more importantly to him, Beck is watching. Sighing, Kobol lets go and puts away his gun before walking over to Beck.

“Watch him ‘till I get back.” Is all he stonily says to her, before waling off with a hand on Beck’s shoulder.

Lux grips her wrist as she silently winces and watches them go.

“Lux!” She turns slightly and lets go of her wrist as the stranger starts insisting again, “You have to let me go! Kobol is taking Beck to be _killed!”_

“No.” Lux says calmly, “ _Repourposed._ ”

The word sends invisible shivers through Tron and he’s shaken all the way to the core.

_No….that’s even worse…_

Lux ignores the fact that the stranger knew what she had said and sat down on a small box, still in view of the light.

“My job was to follow you until Beck forgot who he was.”

She looks away from him and to the skyline, “Then he’d be easier to take. And it worked.”

“…Free me.”

She looks to him ridiculously.

“Your own life is in danger. Kobol killed Galt.” Tron shrugs for unknown emphasis, “He almost killed _me_.”

Lux looks away as he continues.

“Soon it’ll be your turn!”

Lux shakes her and laughs slightly, “No. You’re _wrong_.”

She gets up and leans down in front of him. “Kobol would never hurt me. He _loves_ me.”

When Tron says nothing, Lux gets back up and begins to walk away, feeling as if she won.

“…Who are you trying to convince?”

Lux stops and looks back to him to see his shielded face is watching her with an intensity that could be sensed even through a mask. She grips her wrist in the thought of all that Kobol has done to her since they’ve known each other…

_Oh my God…_

Tron quietly watches her as she starts back towards him, intensity in her gaze that wasn’t there before.

* * *

 

“This _thing_ better be lethal.”

It’s early the next morning and Zed had moved the weapon to a clear field. He keeps his eyes on the data pad in his hands.

“We stuck our necks out for you.” Hopper finishes hissing.

“It’s a killer alright…” Zed says uncertainly and smiling, Bartik throws an arm around his shoulder.

“Sorry…I’m late.”

Bartik looks up and takes his arm off Zed, “What’s _she_ doing here?”

Zed looks up to see _Mara_ being escorted to them by a guard.

“This civilian claims she’s assisting the demonstration.”

Mara looks up to him and just by her look, he stops feeling uncertain anymore.

“She just did.” He says to the guard before turning to Mara, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I’m on a tight schedule so let’s cut to the chase.”

Zed quickly closes the lid to the weapon as Commander Paige, escorted by two guards, approaches. She stops and crosses her arms, “You brought me here for a new bike mod?”

Zed jump off the ledge to the weapon, “A weapon, actually.”

He picks up his data pad and begins typing rapidly, “I just need to make _one_ quick adjustment first.”

He glances to Mara as he says this and gets back on the ledge. Tightening his jaw, he pushes activate. The weapon charges up, but then explodes outward, knocking Zed off the ledge and puffing up smoke. Everyone else backs away, coughing and waving away smoke.

Everyone except the commander, whose arms are crossed as Zed looks up to her. “Oops.” He shrugs, “Guess it still needs work.”

“You’re a joke.” Is all the commander says to him as she flicks some dust off her shoulder. She turns to Barik and Hopper, “And you two.”

They both straighten.

“Whose idea was it to _waste_ my time with this _imbecile_?”

“It was all…Hopper.” Bartik points to Hopper.

As Hopper begins to freak out and protest loudly, Zed catches up to Mara, who waits at the edge of the scene for him.

“Wow. That was really a blast.”

He smirks as he catches her approving gaze. He slips off the armband and throws it behind him, where it clanks forgotten.

* * *

 

Above them, a ship roars towards the beam of light.

“There they are, Beck.” Kobol’s fidgeting with something as they wait in the beam. “You’ll be home soon.”

Beck glances to him once, but they both turn suddenly.

“Back away from him, Kobol.”

Tron’s holding his knives at his sides, ready to fight.

Kobol grins as he pulls out his crowbar and shows the object, _Beck’s I.D., a copy stick, and vial of the cure._

“Is _this_ what you’re looking for?” He pockets it quickly before rushing towards Tron. Tron assumes a fighting stance and dodges Kobol’s first swings. He steps behind Kobol but misses his head as he swipes at where it had been. Kobol rolls underneath then shoots his pistol. Tron dodges before slinging forward his knife. It bounces off the crowbar, but Kobol is thrown back. The gun falls and is forgotten as Kobol takes the crowbar in both hands and uses it as his primary weapon. He quickly tackles Tron, who knocks his arm away and punches Kobol in the face. He kicks Kobol off him and gets to his feet. Kobol grabs the crowbar again and lunges at Tron. Tron grabs the crowbar and pushes against Kobol’s force.

“Who are you?” Kobol growls.

Tron doesn’t answer, but rather pulls the crowbar out of Kobol’s grip. Grunting, he swings and knocks Kobol off his feet. The traitor lands on his back roughly and his hood falls off. He groans as he loses consciousness for a moment. Tron kneels next to Kobol, and raises his knife to kill…

But he feels something poke his helmet and stops. He turns to see Beck is holding the gun at his head, face set. Tron lowers the knife and turns fully to Beck. Beck narrows his eyes.

“Kill him!” Kobol yells, having regained conciousness, “He’s the enemy!”

Beck’s glare falters and he shakes his head. He hisses as he covers his left eye with his palm.

“DO IT!” Beck looks up in alarm as Kobol yells, “I COMMAND YOU!”  
Beck’s hand holding the gun shakes as he swallows and his gaze flicks between Tron and Kobol.

“I know you’re still there, Beck.” Beck’s attention is drawn to Tron’s tired, yet calm voice. “The memory loss hasn’t taken all of you. Killing is not your way.”

Sighing, Tron pulls off his helmet. In shock, Beck drops the gun and backs away. His mind is settled and he stops shaking. At least, for the moment.

Kobol is shocked as well.

“Tron…” Kobol muses as Tron catches his breath, and they all see the scars.

“Beck, this is…about _more_ than the Uprising. Beck, look at me. You’re my _friend.”_

Beck looks up in shock as Tron looks down.

“I didn’t say before because I didn’t think I could. But that was wrong of me. _We’re friends.”_

He looks up to Beck’s uncertain gaze as the brain degeneration returns quietly, “ _Be who you are._ You don’t need your memories for that.”

Tron grunts and grabs his side and Kobol takes advantage of this.

“What are you doing?!? You work for Tesler!”

“I’m not a killer.” Beck says, shaking his head uncertainly before he says confidently, “I don’t kill people.”

Kobol looks over to Tron, who is on his hands and knees in pain, before meeting Beck’s gaze coldly. “Too bad.”

He picks back up the crowbar. “Because I _do_!”  
Beck stumbles back and grunts as the degeneration storms back in.

“I thought I had something with the Renegade…”

Beck stumbles again and grips his head.

 _AHHHHHHH  
_“But now I’ve got _Tron!”_  
Kobol knocks him to the ground. Beck bends over on himself, gripping his head as he rocks back and forth, shaking.

“STOP!” He screams, “MAKE. IT. STOP!”  
But no one would. His name was leaving him like sand on the wind and words were falling apart on his tongue. Thoughts become broken and Beck cries as he rocks back and forth.

Kobol savors this moment of victory and begins to swing the crowbar down when Tron jumps up and grabs him around the shoulder and neck. He reaches his hand into Kobol’s jacket and grabs the packet of Beck’s objects.

“BECK! DRINK THE VIAL!”

He throws it at Beck before Kobol turns on him. The vial makes a _clink_ before it rolls to a stop in front of him. Beck’s daze gaze sees the vial through the blur. His shaking hand reaches out and fumbles for it. Finally, he grasps it and is able to pop off the lid. Trembling, he brings the vial up to his lips and downs the whole thing. He drops it and curls in on himself, sighing. When he looks up again, the blurs are leaving and conscious thoughts are rushing back.

_My name is Beck._

_I fight for Tron._

“Guess what? I’m back.”

Kobol punches down Tron and turns.

WHAM

Beck punches Kobol straight in the face and Kobol’s thrown off his feet and hits the ground hard, stunned. Beck rushes over to Tron, who is struggling to sit up, and helps him to his feet.

There’s a light above them. Beck looks up to see the large ship start to descend.

“We should go.” Beck grabs Tron.

Tron shakes his head as he pants, “We can’t just leave Kobol here. He knows your identity.”

Beck glances to him, “Then we bring him with us.”

He feels something click around his wrist.

“Bring me _where_ , Renegade?”

Beck looks down to see Kobol cuffed them together. Tron backs away as Beck tries to pull his hand out of the cuff.

_Crap crap crap…._

And Kobol laughs. A broken, but victorious laugh.

BANG

Kobol instantly stops laughing and falls over, dead. Beck looks up to see Lux drop her gun and run over to them. She unlocks the cuffs and Beck grabs ahold of Tron as she meets them. She seems shocked, to see Tron face-to-face.

“You being alive changes _everything_ , if I had only known earlier I…” She reaches up to touch Tron’s face, as if wondering if he was real.

Beck tenses and catches their attention as the ship opens a soldier upon soldier piles out. Tron breaks out of Beck’s grasp to approach them but grunts in pain and grabs at his side. Beck forgets grabbing his weapon as he rushes to stabilize Tron and has to back away with him. Lux kneels in front of Tron, pained at his condition.

“Look…we…we can’t let them get to you.” She pulls out a small card, “Take Kobol’s I.D. _Destroy it.”_

She grabs Kobol’s sword, the one he had forgotten all about, from the wall.

“I’ll hold them off.”

Beck nods and sits down with Tron. He drops Kobol’s card and he goes to pick it up when he sees another underneath it. One with the picture of a blue-eyed woman…

“No!” Beck jumps up but Tron finds the strength to hold him back.

“She wants us to escape, Beck.”

Beck ignores him, “No! LUX!”  
Lux hears him screaming but forces herself to ignore it as she attacks the guards. She’s upon them without warning and is a storm of fury. A storm of passion. A vent against all of her life. Her time in the brothels. Her time as Kobol’s slave. And her time knowing Beck and Tron….

Beck’s screams are still consistent.

“LUX! DON’T! PLEASE!”

She looks up to him and they meet gazes. She sees the pain, but the care as well in his eyes. He _did_ love her. It wasn’t just a lust after all. She smiles softly at him, her eyes filled with warmth he never saw before from her.

She turns and freezes as a guard’s blade impales her. Beck gasps slightly, as if he himself had been stabbed and his eyes grow moist. She falls back slowly, gracefully and lands against the ground in a muted thud. She’s no longer breathing and her eyes are closed.

“NO!” Beck screams, Tron still holding him back. He lowers his head into his mentor’s shoulder, wraps his arms around him, and cries as the Occupation shatters his life once again.

* * *

 

_“Attention: there has been a security breach. Prepare to show identifications.”_

_Everyone groans as soldiers take their places at the entrances. Beck pulls out his I.D. and groans._

Crap. It’s expired.

_Sighing, he stuffs it back in his pocket and begins to look around._

_“Hey.”_

_Beck looks up as Galt stops next to him, at this time a stranger._

_“Something tells me you’ve got something you don’t want the soldiers to see too.”_

_“Nah, just late for work.” He looks away, “Hopefully this doesn’t take too long.”_

_Not a complete lie; his hack into the advertising system to make every sign read ‘TRON LIVES’ had take more time than he had planned. And now karma was playing games with him._

_“Yeah right…”Galt sighs, “Look, we don’t need these goons poking around in our business, do we?”_

_Before Beck can answer another civilian catches everyone’s attention by causing a yelling commotion at the entrance._

_Galt sets a hand on Beck’s shoulder, “Now’s our chance. Follow me.”_

_Beck glances back once before following the man into the endless alleyways until they end up near Argon square._

_“Well,” Galt sighs, “This is where we split up.”_

_“Hey! Thanks.”_

_“Don’t thank me yet, Beck.”_

_Beck stops and begins to turn back around._

_“I never told you my_”_

_He breaks off to see Galt dangling his I.D. lazily._

_“Hey!” He reaches for it, but Galt pulls away, “Give it back!”_

_Galt laughs as he teases Beck with it. “I don’t know, something as simple as this…you’ve got to be hiding something…”_

_“It’s expired.” Beck says sourly, “But I need it in order to get it renewed_”_

_“No I think it’s more than that…”_

_He tosses it back and Beck catches it, sighing in relief. However, Galt pins him against the wall and pulls out a weird probing device._

_“Stop!” Beck hisses, trying to slip out, but Galt’s got him pinned tight._

_“Let’s see here…” He presses it against Beck’s forehead and ignores Beck’s glare as it copies all of his memories._

_“Thank you.” Galt puts it away and snatches back Beck’s I.D._

_“What was that for?” Beck exclaims._

_“Oh, I need this. But don’t you worry. You won’t remember it anyways.”_

_“Wha_”  
But Galt cups a hand over Beck’s mouth and Beck yells as he feels something prick into his neck. He begins to feel…shaky. Galt lets go and Beck stumbles back into the wall. He looks up in a daze._

_“W-what did you…”_

_Galt doesn’t let him finish, but rather backhands him hard and everything goes black._

“Beck.”

Beck jumps as Tron puts a hand on his shoulder.  
“You ready?”

“Hm?” Beck is confused before he nods, “Oh. Yeah.”

“Stand up then. She’s ready.”

Beck gets off the rock he had been sitting on. Tron holds a jar in his hands.

Ashes. Beck had heard of burnings before, but never had seen one. Tron said it was another way of respecting the dead; and to some people, closure.

“She sacrificed herself to save us. That’s who Lux really was.” With a nod of approval from Beck, Tron closes the lid, “A hero.”

“She also became a friend.” Beck adds, looking at the jar that held Lux’s ashes.

He looks away after a moment of silence.

“I remember what you said to me back there. Got a little emotional, huh?”

When Tron says nothing, Beck shakes his head, “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

Tron sighs, “A long time ago, I misjudged someone.”

“CLU?” Beck asks, looking to him.

Tron sets a hand on Beck’s shoulder, “I let…friendship cloud judgment and paid a…heavy price.”

Tron’s eyes are clouded with an unknown grief for a long moment before he sighs.

“But I didn’t misjudge you, Beck.”  He meets his apprentice’s gaze, “With you I chose well.”

Beck looks to the sky, smiling slightly. Tron watches him for a moment before patting his back and handing over the jar.

“Here. Why don’t we go back and…talk? I have a feeling that is something we need to do.”

Beck nods as he takes the jar and follows Tron back. To this day, Lux’s jar sits on a shelf in the base and Beck looks to it often, and remembers a friend who cared.


	9. Chapter Eight- Memory Lane

The commander’s door shut behind her and she sighs in peace, letting her shoulders drop. They were no closer to catching the Renegade than before, so Tesler demanded she bring any information she has ever gathered about the annoyance and bring it to him. But while she’s here, she lets down her guard. Being alone, it’s her only opportunity to do so.

She walks to her desk, which holds piles upon piles of papers and notes. She picks up a large binder and viewed it to see it was the one she needed. She opens the binder to her notes and turns to leave.

A gleam catches her eye. She looks up to one pile in the corner of her desk where dust collects. Setting down the binder, she picks up the papers and examines them.

 _Music._ Set in her own handwriting. She smiles softly as she remembers the tune before setting it off to the side and picking up a picture frame that had slid away from the wall. The glass is cracked, but the picture is intact. Paige traces her hand along the picture of four people, one man and three women, specifically of a girl so long ago….

_“Paige!”_

_Paige looked up from her dresser as she struggles, “In here.”_

_The door begins to open and she quickly stuffs the papers into the drawer of her dresser. Through the door, a weary, stern, yet kind-faced woman entered. Her long brown hair is beginning to show its gray and wrinkles are forming around her eyes and mouth, but her russet eyes shine in a happiness, a sort of pride._

_“You ready?”_

_“Almost….just having trouble with the badge….”_

_“Here. I’ll help you.” The woman came up and pinned the badge through Paige’s top. Her own badge says “Diana”. She smiled as she finished._

_“There. You’re ready.”_

_Paige looked up to the woman with a light smile that touched her eyes. Sighing, Diana pushed a stray out of Paige’s eyes to join the rest of her bangs just resting above her eyebrow._

_“Oh, I’ve waited for this day for so long. Your first day as an official medic……”_

_After a moment, Diana turned away, “Come on. Desner and Rox are waiting on us.”_

_As Diana began to leave, Paige called to her, “Mom!”_

_Diana turned back at the door._

_Paige smiled, “Thank you.”_

_Her mother smiled before leaving the room._

_Moments later, Paige hurried down the stairs, looking over her outfit as she went. Another woman met her at the door, not Diana, though._

_“Come on Paige! Desner’s waiting on us!”_

_“Coming!” She gave a small grin as she caught up to her friend and followed out the door to the outside world, where a crowd was gathered for the grand opening. There, Diana had just finished her small speech as Desner waited next to her. Rox and Paige caught up as Desner ran over to the camera perched a couple feet away. He looked up as he heard them._

_“Paige, Rox, hurry up! I wanna commemorate this; our grand opening.”_

_Paige joined Diana, who straightened the badge on her shirt quickly._

_“Okay….” He played around with the camera, his prized possession, and finally got it fixed, “There!”_

_It began to beep on a timer as he stepped back, “It’s all set. Come on.”_

_The women came around him and smiled at the camera, and a thought struck Paige suddenly…_

_“Wait not yet!” she ran over stuck her head through the door, “We forgot the sign!”_

_“Paige, come on!” Rox called with a smile._

_She flicked on the switch, “Okayokayokay!”_

_She ran back over and joined the picture right as it snapped with a bright flash__

WAH WAH WAH

She starts in surprise and looks up from the picture.

_That’s the attack alarm!_

_The Renegade!_

The picture clatters to the ground, forgotten, as she races out the door and towards the only exit in air. She knows that’s where he’d be heading.

And she’s right. She skids to a stop in the bay to see the Renegade push a guard out of a jet and it rises quickly.

 _“All forces head to bay.”_ She presses her hand to her ear as a guard’s voice dispatches through the comm., “ _The Renegade has stolen a data cube containing security information. Last seen hijacking Occupation air property.”_

She ignores the last part as she races to the chopper just nearby and begins to rise as well. She looks down once to the scrambling programs below before returning her gaze back up and chasing after the blip that has narrowly made it through the closing security gate. Quickly, it opens up as she passes through, quietly urging the large machine faster.

In the sky, she sees him turn back, meaning he had noticed her. She keeps a steady hand as she forces the machine to go as fast as possible. When it’s obvious she isn’t catching up anytime soon, he shakes his head and turns back forward, not even bothering to change his course.

She groans in frustration. At this point, she’ll never catch this white infuriation.

And then she sees them on either side of her. The jets that zoom forward on either side of her. For once in their time working together can she say she’s relieved to see Pavel, though even then it’s tinged with slight frustration that she refuses to voice. Rather, she watches them lead the way.

She sees the Renegade turn his head back in alarm before accelerating as the jets open fire. He maneuvers through the shots and leads them in a U-turn. The fire is constant and the Renegade climbs up, higher and higher into the sky. He manages to get behind the group, where they aren’t certain where he went.

That’s her chance.

She directs the chopper straight at the thief, reining fire down upon the smaller aircraft. He barely manages to veer out of the way of her and soars past her. Gritting her teeth, she keeps her hand steady as she continues to shoot at him, following him towards the smudge on the horizon.

It was an island and the Renegade, being the dangerously stupid deathwish he was, leads her into it, among the cliff faces and land. She manages to veer through the semi-foggy, her hand clenched on the controls as her eyes train him.

She groans and leans forward to see better, “Just give up already!”

He suddenly veers out of the way and a gasp escapes her as a cliff face comes through the fog. She ceases fire to make a sharp escape and finds herself almost out of the fog; she can almost see the sky.

And there he is. Making a daring move just in front of her. Without a moment to lose, she jerks the control to turn and shoots. One of her attempts is lucky enough to see the engine give off a smoky fire.

“Gotcha!” Perhaps this journey off the beaten path wasn’t too bad_

And she was almost jolted out of her seat. She had been hit, upon quick investigation, and had now lost control. And while her descent was more circular and well, slow, the Renegade’s jet took an immediate dive towards land.

But she couldn’t and doesn’t worry about that now. She inserts her entire strength into making a safe fall onto land.

Beck feels his breath catch as land below him suddenly becomes more and more detailed with each passing second. He wrenches on the escape joystick only to jerk once and heard a loud CLUNK as his helmeted head hits the top. Cursing under his breath, he pulls on the latch to the top only to find it won’t budge.

_It’s jammed!_

_No no no…._

This was a mistake. He should’ve listened to Tron, instead of insisting he could do this. He shouldn’t have stolen this defect of a jet and now the top won’t open…

Wait.

He slips his laser dagger off his waist and holds it in one hand, before thrusting up. The contact is jolting, but he manages to break through the glass once. Grunting, he thrusts again and again until his entire arm breaks through the glass and the glass has all rained on him or rushed into the sky. But he ignores it as with a pant, he jerks the joystick again.

The force sends him into the air. He grips his parachute tight to him as he begins to descend at the near same rate as his jet. With a grunt, his fingers fumble for the string and gives a tug. With a jolt, the wind pulls him up momentarily before he touches the ground where gracelessly falls to his knees. But at the sound of jets, he’s on his feet and has taken shelter behind one of the cliffs. His whole body is shaking as he manages to barely look around the corner and survey the damage.

His jet had crashed a couple yards away, and above head, jets circle over the damage, perhaps searching for him. But they don’t seem to find him and he lets his held breath fizzle out.

* * *

 

Down the shore, Paige hisses through her teeth as she stumbles away from the chopper, having hit her head upon landing, and she curses it.

But all of that disappears as she looks up in response to the sound to see her colleague’s jet fly above her.

“Pavel!” She waves and moves forward on the beach to near him, “Over here!”

He looks straight at her, she swears it. But rather, after a moment’s connection, turns away and leads the jets back to Argon.

“What are you doing? Come back!” She’s still trying to wave down his attention, even if he so blatantly ignored her.

“Pavel! WAIT! WAIT_”  
_“Hey!” Rox and Desner look back and stop as she manages to catch up, readjusting her badge. “Wait up!”_

_Once she’s ready, they as a trio continue walking._

_“Sorry I’m late, I was just_”_

_“Practicing your music.” Both say at the same time, though Denser continues with a slight chuckle._

_“Yeah, we know.”_

_Paige rolls her eyes, “Laugh all you want, but I think I’m actually getting better.”_

_“Listen, Paige,” Paige doesn’t look back as they take the steps along the path to the hospital, “You’re a great medic, but you’re not_”_

_“Meant for music.” Paige finishes, looking to her friend, “I know.”_

_“Plus, you know how Diana is about music. If she finds out that you’re playing behind her back_”_

_“She’ll never find out, because you two are the only ones that know and you won’t tell. Seriously, just because it caused her to be a single mother isn’t my fault, and it won’t happen to me. I won’t be stupid_”_

_“You know it’s not that.” Rox sighs, “She sees talent in you that she wants to be used well. She wants to know that you’ll be helping people after she’s gone. You should really just stick to being a medic.”_

_“Trust us,” Desner added in, “You’ll be better off.”_

_They pass through the tunnel._

_“I mean isn’t medicine_”_

_He’s cut off as a scream echoes through the tunnel. Another one follows it and before the other two can react, Paige is already ahead of them and she can see the scene clearly._

_There are two women, cornered by three, much larger and armed men. One of the women looks up from her unconscious friend, eyes narrowed, “Leave us alone!”  
They ignore her and start to close in._

_Now’s her chance._

_She tackles the one in the back, wrapping her arm around his neck and knocking him away as the second attacks her. She dodges and aims a kick that he manages to dodge as well. He swings his crowbar and she ducks, before a well aimed punch to the midriff causes him to fall back and he’s kicked to the ground without a second thought._

_“Nice.” She turns in surprise to see the woman who had been screaming was now standing, her intense blue eyes settling on the medic._

_But they shift at the sound of their third attacker and as he lunges, she takes action. She grabs his arms, and throws him over her shoulder, sending him flying into the wall._

_Paige crosses her arms with a grin, “Nice!”_

_The woman gives her a second of a grin…before her eyes flash in worry and she rushes over to her friend’s side._

_“She has to get to the hospital!” The woman calls as Rox and Desner join the scene._

_“Let me take her.” Desner offers, “We work at the hospital.”_

_She nods and Desner picks up the woman covered in cuts and bruises before rushing through the tunnel to where the hospital was just to the left, and the others followed behind him._

* * *

_ All available medical staff please report to Recovery. _

_The woman looks up._

_“Will she be alright?”_

_Paige stands and Rox sits across from her seat as she views the information._

_“Some of her wounds were pretty nasty, but she’ll make it.”_

_The woman sighs in a tired relief. “I guess we made easy targets.”_

_She looks away as Desner enters, “Times are hard, ever since the war.”_

_“Are you soldiers?” Paige’s interest is piqued and the woman looks up to see her sit down beside. She shakes her head, looking away._

_“Refugees. Our home city became a target of the Purge after some Isos were discovered there. We barely made it out alive.”_

_Rox gives a soft and almost silent gasp, “It must have been_ terrifying _to have Isos in your own city.”_

_“I’ve heard they’re insane.” Desner adds in, “Feral. That they can kill people with their bare hands.”_

_The woman named Quorra as figured earlier looks down. After a moment, she meets their gazes again._

_“I’m…pretty sure that’s just a rumor.”_

* * *

 

Beck pushes away from the remains with a groan.

It’s too damaged to even float, let alone take to the air again. He had taken off his helmet to breathe and now he kicks it a small distance away. He had no way of contacting Tron, he was all alone…

There’s a loud rumble and the ground shakes slightly. He looks up to see the sky slowly take on a darker, more opaque color than before.

“Whoa.”

_What is that…?_

_Could that be…?_

Taking off in a sprint, he snatches up his helmet and makes his way up the rocks, but comes to a stop, horrified at what he sees.

_Oh…shi__

CRK

With a grunt, Paige sticks the bar in between the drop down. She pushes against the side of the chopper. With a final push, she stumbles back from the excess force as the side pops off. Panting, she bends to lift the edge and pull it away. If she can get this all together, maybe she can get off…

She trips over her feet and falls to the ground with a cry. Turning, she gets to her knees and bows her head, panting.

“HEY!”  
The voice makes her freeze.

_No…but he’s dead…_

Apparently not. She gets to her feet, beginning to make her way up.

“You’re a hard man to derezz.”

She reaches the same platform as the masked Renegade, pulling off her gun almost unnoticeably.

“But you know what? I like a challenge!”  
With a grunt, she whips out the gun and fires. The Renegade crouches low for a moment before getting back to his feet, “We have a problem_”

But he’s cut off as her foot hits him across the face and he falls back to the ground as she lands in a crouch before quickly standing and advancing, gun out.

“No, _you’ve_ got a problem.”

He scrambles to his feet and turns to her just in time to block her fist and then her foot.

“Hold on!” He dodges another hit and a club to the side of his head with her gun, “I’ve gotta show you something!”  
She doesn’t relent, her face set.

“You think I’m that gullible?”

The rhetorical doesn’t have a chance to be answered as through a hole in his form, Paige kicks the Renegade in the chest, sending him to the ground with a heavy THUD. The security code cube, in all its orange light, rolls away from the Renegade.

 _Of course!  
_As he’s delayed, she tears towards the cube and is able to snatch it up before the Renegade’s clenched fist landed where it had been moments before. She holds it up triumphantly as he stood, his whole posture tense and bent.

“You probably thought I forgot about this.”

Neither get to say more as the ground shakes, making Paige stumble and lose her balance. She falls off the side but manages to grab the edge and clench as she manages to hide away the cube. She sees him lean over the edge and her entire face shifts to rage.

“ _Now_ will you listen?”

With a cry of rage, she tries to smash his exposed fingers with the handle of her gun but he withdraws his fingers quicker than she expected.

“Will you just _stop_?” He points to behind her, “Look what’s happening!”

She follows his finger to see the smoke coming from the mountain top.

“That’s…” She starts but doesn’t finish, eyes wide.

“The volcano is set to erupt any time now, and there’s no way to stop that from happening. Pretty soon the whole island will be covered in volcanic ash, and us with it.”

He holds his hand out to her, having noticed she had put away her gun, “Still wanna keep fighting?”

As she clenches the side, she looks at his hand with barely veiled disgust. “ _Absolutely_.”

Yet if he’s right about the volcano…she can’t hang here forever.

“But I guess it’ll have to wait.” She grabs his hand and with surprising strength, he pulls her back to standing on top of the rock.

She sees him tilt his head, and then he says, “No way that’ll ever fly again.”

She turns to see the chopper and she fixes him with a look upon return.

“It doesn’t have to fly. Just _float.”_

“Look around.” The Renegade gestures to all around them, “There’s no armies out here, no soldiers. Just us. If we wanna live, we have to work together.”

_No._

_Hell hasn’t frozen over._

Rather, she didn’t voice that thought.

“I _am_ the army.” She takes a step towards him glaring straight into the blank mask, “And I’m getting off this rock _alone._ ”

She waits for him to argue, but he doesn’t. He says nothing for once. And he continues so as she runs off to finish her work.

The sky has gotten darker by the time she finishes. She pushes the make-shift raft across the sand and into the water. She takes only a couple steps into the freezing water before jumping onto the raft, grabbing her oar and starting her journey.

She doesn’t know what she did wrong. She’s not far from shore when she feels the imbalance. She barely looks down before the raft tears apart underneath her and she’s plunged into the freezing water. It stuns her momentarily, shocking her. Then she fights the cold and gasps as she reappears above water. Breathing deep, she begins her slow swim back to shore, fighting the biting cold water.

By the time she crawls onto shore, her muscles scream with protest and she’s coughing water. With a sigh, she plops onto the sand, too worn to move.

“Still don’t think you need my help?”

Panting still, she manages to look up to see the Renegade standing above, his mask and form almost as blank as ever. Maybe….a touch of pride…

She sighs and lies her head back down against the sand, choosing to ignore him. He stands there, waiting.

“Well?” He finally asks as she gets to her feet. She glares at him, gripping her arms as she attempts warm her muscles, and she walks past him towards the cliff face overlooking the sea.

He’s right. She needs his help.

But what he can do? Building a raft is impossible…

She doesn’t look back to him as he approaches, not even when he surprises her with a soft, gentle voice.

“The water’s going to get even rougher as the volcano gets closer to erupting. I could attach the propulsion unit on your chopper to the lifeboat I made. Modify it to work in water…”

He breaks off as she looks back with a cynical look.

“Don’t you need to be an engineer to do something like that?”

He shrugs it off, “How hard could it be?”

She rolls her eyes slightly, having pulled her legs close to her chest, “It could be impossible…”

“ _Look_.” The gentle curve takes on a rough edge that instantly shows his temper is rising. “I can’t do this alone and neither can you.” He points to her, coming to stand right in her vision, “And if we don’t work fast, we’ll drown.”

She looks away and shrugs off, “At least I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing the end of the Renegade.”

He tilts his head, “You really wanna die here?”

She doesn’t answer, and still refuses to meet his eyes, rather watching the sea. In truthfulness, she’s _dreading_ that thought, the thought of being choked by ash or burned to nothing…..but his death is her mission, and that meant she had to be prepared to follow through…until the end.

“We can do this.” He continues, reverting to the soft sympathy, “ _Trust me_.”

She looks to his masked face, hoping silently that the eyes behind the mask were sincere at least _once_ …

He shifts and a scarlet catches the corner of her eye and drags it to his arm. The white of the uniform is ripped and tainted with blood that continues to seep down the arm of the outfit. Against her will, a familiar softness of compassion returns and the steel in her eyes lessens. “You’re injured.”

He looks to where she’s staring before covering the wound with his other hand, “It’s nothing.”

But she’s already on her feet and she silently gestures for him to kneel. Despite his protest, he obeys and she kneels next to him, pulling his arm close to her to see.

“The wound has been bleeding for a while. Without attention, it will become infected.”

She reaches towards his knife, “I’ll need to get a better look at the wound_”

His hand suddenly grasps her wrist in a death grip and her gaze snaps up and there’s a slight pang of hurt as she realizes.

_He doesn’t trust me!  
Of course not._

She pulls her arm out of his grip as she stands, her anger returning, though not as forceful as before.

“I’m only doing this because I need your help.”

He looks up to her, his arm covering the wound again, “So…we’re agreeing to a truce?”

“A _temporary_ truce.”

He stands, pulling off the knife and holding out the top of the hilt to her. She takes it when he pulls back, seemingly looking her in the eye.

“You’re not going to kill me? I have your word, as a soldier?”

She resists the urge to show any anger, yet her voice has a tight feeling as she utters, “You have my word.”

She pulls to knife out of his grip carefully before setting to work cutting the sleeve away from his arm. Once done, she folds it up to where the blood won’t make contact with his skin, but it’s still able to wrap around the width of his built arm. She presses the cloth against the wound, clasping the underside of his arm as she applies pressure.

“Where did you learn to do that?” The question surprises her, but she doesn’t look up from her work regardless.

“All soldiers learn how to treat battlefield injuries.” She ties the ends tight enough to keep the pressure. “It’s part of our training.”

“Huh.” He flexes the arm, “Not bad.”

He reaches for his knife when she withdraws from his reach. He hesitates, debating whether he should prepare for an attack. After a moment, she gives him the smallest sincere smile and hands it back to him.

* * *

 

_“It’s beautiful.”_

_Paige looks up and withdraws her hands from the piano, leaving the final note to echo away at Quorra’s words. She then drops her gaze._

_“I…it’s really simple. It’s just something I made up….I’m not…meant to play music.”_

_Ada, as the other woman’s name was learned, joins Quorra beside the piano. “You could’ve fooled me.”_

_Quorra looks from her to Paige again, “Well you’re obviously capable of learning things besides medicine.”_

_“Your playing proves it!”_

_Paige gives a nervous chuckle, looking back down, “It’s not hard…”_

_“I bet you could do anything you put your mind to.”_

_This makes her look up and her eyes spark as an idea comes to her._

_“Like…how to take someone done in a single move?” She drops the faux move as she continues, “Like you did?”_

_Quorra looks back to Ada before returning her gaze to Paige and shrugging, “Why not?”_

_She gestures for the medic to stand and she obeys as Quorra speaks._

_“The key is to use your opponent’s momentum against him.” She assumes a basic stance, “Punch me.”_

_Paige gingerly raises her fist and Quorra tenses, her eyes daring. So, the young medic swings forward with all her might. She cries out as Quorra catches her arm and flips her over the shoulder, only to gently place her on the ground._

_As she catches her breath, she gives a soft chuckle, “Wow….that’s amazing!”_

_Quorra smirks slightly as she circles back to her original spot, assuming another stance, “Let me show you again. Slowly. Then you can try it.”_

_Paige obeys but stops as she notices in the last move, Quorra’s sleeve had been pushed down…_

_And the inked mark that she had only seen in the news and in her nightmares contrasted on Quorra’s arm quite noticeably. She looks down to it, then back to Paige, not reacting immediately._

_“Oh no…” She shakes her head, eyes wide as she glances between Ada and Quorra, “You’re an_ Iso!”  
_Quorra quickly covers her arm with her hand, “Paige_”_

_“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?”  
“Would you have helped us if we had?” Quorra forgets about her arm so it’s back. It’s not an illusion of the young medic’s mind. It was real…too real…_

_“She’ll alert the patrols.” Ada states as she comes between the two, “We can’t allow that.”_

_Paige growls as she pushes past them, angrily knocking off her music as she passes towards the door._

_“Paige DON’T!”  
The door opens and Paige comes face-to-face with Diana, her expression taut._

_“Diana they_”_

_She shushes the medic before closing the door behind her. She ignores the music strewn over the floor or the touched piano. Rather she glances over to Quorra and Ada, “Are you two alright?”_

_“Wait, you_ knew!?”  
_“Yes and Paige it’s important that you can’t tell anyone_”_

_“WHY? Isos are destructive! They’re insane, they’re_”_

_Diana stops Paige, “Have Quorra or Ada ever acted that way towards you?”_

_It was a question she already knew the answer to, and it stops Paige in her tracks as she shakes in fury._

_“The Isos are not destructive, Paige. They’ve been shown that way by other people.”_

_“People hate us because we don’t follow society but our own rules and laws. We’re_ different _…that’s the only reason we’re being hunted.” Quorra tries to Paige, whose fists are turning white and shaking._

_“I can trust you…can’t I?” Quorra whispers and Paige fixes her with a glare that burns into the Iso’s pleading gaze._

_And she nods._

_Quorra sighs in relief and Ada looks away as Paige now refuses to meet anyone’s gaze. Diana puts a hand on Paige’s shoulder and leads her out._

_“Remember Paige. You can’t tell_ anyone, _not even Rox or Desner…”_

* * *

_“Something on your mind?” Paige jumps as Rox’s voice wakes her from her thoughts. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”_

_“I’m just…tired. That’s all.”_

_“How are Quorra and her friend?” Rox directs them around a small group of programs as they approach the hospital._

_“They’re leaving.” She looks away from her friend, “Thankfully.”_

_Rox tilts her head in confusion, “I thought you liked them.”_

_“I did too but…” She finally looks up, “They aren’t who I thought they were.”_

_“You mean they’re not refugees? Who are they? Why are they hiding?”_

_“Look,” She sighs, finally meeting her friend’s gaze, “I can’t talk about it.”_

_She leaves Rox behind._

_“Paige? Paige!”_

_She sighs and watches her friend disappear inside with worry. Something was definitely wrong._

* * *

_She sees them in the reflection of the window but doesn’t turn to them._

_“Ada and I are…leaving now.”_

_Paige doesn’t turn to say anything to them and Quorra looks down to see she’s gripping her music tight in one hand._

_“….I’m sorry I won’t get to hear you play again.”_

_The contamination alarm deafens out any thought to follow and all three look out the window to the orange ships._

_ Attention: an Iso contamination has been reported. Please prepare for scanning. _

_She doesn’t react to this…but certainly does when she sees Quorra advancing in the reflection. She turns only to be thrown off her feet into the wall roughly. She hits the ground and her vision blurs and her head aches as she strains to look to Quorra and Ada…_

_But her head drops and they are gone._

* * *

 

The ground rumbles underneath her and she wakes with a start, gun in hand and aimed.

The Renegade doesn’t look up at first, but rather finishes his work before turning, in which she had already lowered her weapon.

“Not bad,” he pants, “If I do say so myself.”

She smirks and puts away her gun, “Assuming it works.”

“The engine won’t start.” He says kneeling next to boat. “I have no way to jumpstart it…”

She glances to her chopper, then gestures to it, “I happen to have just the thing. You’ll just need to find a way to connect the two.”

Nodding, he simply picks up the edge and gently begins to drag it across the sand. She hurries to his side and grips part, helping drag until they are within distance of the chopper. She pulls out the cables before easing her way to where the engine was located and connects one side before carefully passing the other side to him.

“Suppose we make it back to Argon together...” He starts, testing the clasps before kneeling down, “Then what?”

“You either give yourself up,” She smirks, “or I’ll kill you. Your choice.”

“Mm. Some choice.”

He points to the edge of the chopper, “Hand me that tailflap. We can use it as a rudder.”

She scoffs but walks over to retrieve it, “What do I work for _you_ now_?”

“Paige LOOK OUT!”  
The panic in his voice should’ve been enough to set her running in the opposite direction, but she hesitates as the ground rumbles underneath her. The ground cracks and suddenly she’s falling, falling…until she grabs a ledge and jolts to a stop.  
“PAIGE!” She sees him lean over the edge, “Paige hang on!”

She gives a small nod as she pants, looking up to him, feet dangling above water…

_Her feet leave the ground._

_“On your feet.” The voice behind the rough hands says as they hold her up until she is standing. She’s trying to breathe when something within her kicks in._

_Her arm swings back, nailing the guard in the chest. She wrenches out of the other’s grip and dodges his swing before grunting as she hits him in the gut. Combining her fists together, she slams them down on his back before turning to face the first guard. Grabbing his arm, she swings him around and lets go. He hits the window with a CRASH and falls to the ground._

_She turns to face another when something metallic braces her shoulder and she gasps as the man growls and pushes her back into the glass._

_“What’s going on?” She grunts, trying to push away what she realizes is the man’s grip._

_He grips his pistol in his other hand. “I’m looking for two fugitive Isos.”_

_She looks up to the gun as it hovers in front of her head._

_“You’re gonna tell me where they are.”_

_“I_ don’t know.” _She enunciates roughly and the man pushes her against the wall again._

_“How did you end up here?”_

_“The one called_ Quorra __” her voice cracks at the name, “did this to me. I gave her medical aid and_ this _is how she thanked me!”  
He glares at her a moment longer before releasing her with a growl._

_“The Isos are crooked, dangerous creatures.”_

_Paige bends over, coughing as she tries to regain breath._

_“It seems we found you just in time. Unfortunately,” he looks down, “we couldn’t save the others.”_

_“What others?” She looks up and then worry’s train hits her in the side. She stands fully, “What did they do?”_

_The man doesn’t answer, but rather leads her down to the first floor and she gives a small gasp of shock._

_“The Isos killed them, took everything of value, then fled.”_

_No…._

_That meant Rox, Desner…_

_Diana….her mom…._

_“You were obviously tricked into helping the wrong side in this conflict.”_

_She only looks up to him once, and leaves him behind as she approaches a glint on the floor. Kneeling down, she picks up the picture, seeing the faces of those she had lost._

_“Now that you understand that, I’m willing to give you a chance to join the right side. To make the Isos  pay for what they have done.”_

_Their…_

_IT was the Isos fault! THEY killed everyone!_

_They will pay for what they have done._

_“How soon,” She looks up through her anger, “can I start?”_

She shakes her head to see he is already gone.

“What are you doing? COME BACK!”  
She groans and mutters, “I should’ve killed him when I had the chance!”  
However, he rushes over to the boat and pushes it to shore.

“Hang on Paige.” He mutters, starting up the engine to hear it rumble then die.

“What? Come on, COME ON!”

_Don’t do this to me now!_

He kicks it and the engine restarts, thrumming constantly. He takes off into the water, coming around the cliff towards the Commander who is barely hanging on.

Rocks fall and with gritted teeth, he dodges and ignores the buzzing sound in the distantce, or the fact that the rumbling was becoming constant and above, ash was beginning to rain.

_Almost…there…_

The rocks crumble under her grip and she plunges into the water. Her head pops back above but his eyes widen as a rock hits her and she goes under again. Gasping, he dives over the edge.

The water is cold and stings the cut on his arm. He pushes against these, his eyes trying to stay open and track Paige’s sinking form.

There.

He kicks even faster and she comes closer…closer…

He’s forced to stop as a giant claw comes down, wrapping around Paige and pulling her out of the water and out of sight. He accidently lets go of his air and hurries back to the surface. He comes above with a gasp, grappling the edge of the boat. He scrambles to get the helmet off and sighs as all the water runs down his shoulders and back. He watches the chopper in the sky take her away and sighs once his coughing fit eases.

“I hope someday you’ll realize…I’m one of the good guys.”

With that, he grunts as he climbs back on and makes his way from the volcanic island and back to the home he knew.

* * *

 

“So the Renegade’s evaded capture again.” Tesler’s finger taps on top of the cube.

“Yes.” Paige sighs, giving a small nod, “I was a fool to trust him.”

Her voice fills with hurt at the mention of the Renegade.

“He betrayed me. Just like the Isos.”

Tesler doesn’t reply to this fully, but rather examines the cube before saying, “But thanks to your efforts, he didn’t get away with _this_.”

“Your training served me well. On the island, I thought a lot about how I first met you, how fortunate I am to serve you.”

“All things considered, you’ve done well today.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I knew when we first met how capable you are. Even after the Isos betrayed you so cruelly, you showed _amazing_ strength.”

She nods her head, “I find strength in knowing that _you_ would never betray me, sir…”

_And yet on that rainy night, years ago, Tesler had done a great wrong._

_“And you say her name was Quorra?”_

_“She and her friend were treated right here.” The female agrees._

_“They just left a couple minutes ago.” The man adds in._

_“NO!”_

_All three heads turn to see a woman fighting against the guards, eyes teary in anger._

_“How_ dare _you two?! Betray your co-workers…especially to_ him _!”  
“Do I know you?” Tesler turns on the woman, who pushes past the guards and marches up to them, “Because I’m sure I don’t.”_

_“Like hell you don’t.” She snaps at him, before turning to her fellow medics._

_“Do you know how much danger you have put us all in? You’ve put yourselves in danger! You’ve put Paige in danger! You’ve put_ me _in danger! How can you do this?”_

_“She’s wrong.” Tesler turns to the two, “You’ve done the right thing.”_

_He turns away from them._

_“Tear this place apart. Erase any trace of their presence. And round up everyone who has been exposed to the Isos…and kill them.”_

_“WHAT?” The three say at the same time._

_“You can’t do that!” Diana chases after him, “Just because you decide to intrude back into this life doesn’t mean you can just come in and do whatever you want you selfish_”_

_The guards grab her and pull her back. He turns to look at her._

_“I do know you.” He finally decides._

_“You can’t do this!” She protests, fighting the guards._

_“And why shouldn’t I?”_

_“Please, for the sake of the child at least…you never met them but_”_

_“Then I never will.” He huffs, “Such filth dies with its filth.”_

_Her eyes narrow, “How dare you_?”  
BANG_

_She falters at the shot in her leg and it crumples underneath her._

_“Do it.” Tesler commands, not looking back as he enters the building. He ignores the screams, the pleas, everything, focused on finding the supposed child of his. And when he does, she’s a weak, yet fierce girl whose anger was the perfect aim for her to be_ the _soldier…._

After a moment, Tesler gives a short nod, “I would never betray you. I know all too well what you’re capable of.”

With a quiet a nod, he dismisses her and she is gone.

* * *

 

The shop door opens with a ding and the clerk barely looks up from his work as the person in a hoodie passes him to the back. Their gaze searches from left to right as they search for the special…

There. In the back.

They rush towards it, and dust the keys off with their sleeve before sitting down on the bench. They pull out multiple crumpled pieces of paper and flatten them against the piano’s music stand.

Sighing, Paige pushes off the hood, sets her fingers, closes her eyes, and begins to play.

Her fingers remember the muscle memory of endless repitions and she goes into her thoughts. Her memories. Her mother, most of all. How she brought up her mother to Tesler. He told her he had known her, and through bits more of conversation, it was apparent he was her ever absent father. After listening to him speak as they left the hospital behind, she found out he had remarried multiple times, but had few children. One of his sons, her half brother, had just signed up for the force and in the future, she would not only meet him, but have to work side-by-side with him, no matter how proud he would become with time.

She had forgotten how much she had missed playing and reflecting and was left to silence as the last key was played and the sound faded to nothing in that old music shop of memories.


	10. Chapter Nine- Attitude Adjustment

The ship is barely a speck on Argon’s skyline. No program can see it, and if they could, they would see no threat in the lone cargo ship that was not at all marked like the Occupation.

 _Just passing through_ , some would say.

However, within the middle of that harmless cargo ship, four guards stand in front of a large crate. The metal creaks, but none turn their head as an eye is visible through a new space. The eye searches before its owner sighs.

“I build Tesler a weapon of _unimaginable_ power…”

The voice turns away, belonging to a scrawny man.

“And he gives me _eight guards_.” The scrawny man wears the mark of a scientist, Occupation robes billowing over his small form.

“These ships are the safest way into Argon.” One guard says, not even turning his head to the scientist.

“Great.” He rolls his eyes, glaring at the soldier as he turns slightly. “I feel better already.”

The guard glances to a box in the scientist’s hands, “That’s the Weapon?”

The scientist hunches over more and grips the box, “No, this is _a box_.”

“What’s inside the box….” he opens it slightly, before slamming it closed and looking to the guard, “That’s what important!”

They all start as they are plunged into darkness. Luckily, the emergency lights come on. He turns at the sound of flesh hitting flesh to see his guards are on edge. One guard turns to the still open slab and looks through it as every noise stops and all he can see are the fallen soldiers. Not dead, just fallen. Suddenly, he’s mask to mask with one that’s white, but unseeing as he hears a screeching against the metal.

He tries to jump away but the large steel door manages to pin him down.

The scientist’s head shoots up in fear.

“The Renegade!”

“You missed your stop, Shaw.” Indeed it was he; his mark on his chest blatantly said so.

“Grab your bags. We’re getting off.”

The guards laugh lowly, and the newly dubbed Shaw joins in as they form around him.

“Looks like you got on the wrong ship!”

The Renegade doesn’t hesitate. He meets the first guard with a punch to the gut, and as they fall back, he follows with a hit to the throat. He dodges the next guard’s swing, dodging around then to land his elbow in the small of their back, and manages to knock the final away with a simple kick. He turns to Shaw…but he isn’t there. He hears panting and turns to see the retreating figure of Shaw.

Shaw glances back to see the Renegade turn, yet after a moment, he disappears.

He doesn’t worry about it, though, as he hears footsteps and turns. He gasps and skids to a stop.

“You’re a scientist, Shaw.” The Renegade reasons in front of him, “Not a murderer. You can help people, instead of helping to destroy them.”

Shaw grips the box tighter, snapping it open. “I can’t help these people any more than you can!”  
Inside the box is a small capsule. He swiftly pulls of the top to show it’s a needles, that in which he injects into his own neck.

The change is immediate. His trembling hands replace the top and put the capsule in his pocket. They steady as his pupils widen and take on an orange tint. He screams, though in what emotions and reasons are unknown.

“That’s new.” The Renegade deadpans as he pulls off a knife and surges forward. Shaw impressively flips back, his body arcing before he lands smoothly.

“Nice!”

He jumps quickly, running alongside the edge of the wall towards the Renegade, who can only back away and gape at the sight. Yet he’s not quick enough.

The pain explodes in his neck and chest and he’s thrown back. He grunts as his back spasms and he lands within a crate, looking through a hole. He numbly realizes the crate is beginning to move and he sits up, the world spinning and shaking. He hears the grunting and his eyes widen. He rushes towards the hole as he sees the floor that’s supposed to be beneath the box disappear. Gasping, he jumps out, feeling the shards scratch his back as he reaches out.

“So long, Renegade.”

The Renegade gasps softly as his hands grasp the side, but Shaw is already retreating, running towards where the pilots would be. Grunting, his arms shake as they take on his entire body weight, but he manages to swing up a leg on top, before pushing himself on top. Panting, he pushes himself to his feet to see Shaw’s head disappear near the ladder down. He scrambles over as Shaw finishes climbing down.

_He’s getting away!_

And that’s how he suddenly finds himself slamming into Shaw from the air and rolling off of him.

 _Okay,_ he thinks as he groans softly, _not the best idea I’ve had._

Shaw barely hesitates. He gets to his feet, growling noticeably as he pulls out his gun.

_Oh._

_Okay, definitely not the best idea._

The Renegade barely stands as Shaw lunges. He ducks down, rolling Shaw off his back as he grabs his arm. He flips over with the momentum and something clinks to the ground as he continues to roll and roll.

Gasping, the Renegade slides and reaches out, grabbing the muzzle of Shaw’s gun. He jerks to a stop, swinging slightly.

“I’ve got you.” Beck grunts.

The gun muzzle slips through his hands, but he reaches out with his other hand, managing to snag his wrist.

He reaches out with his other, “Give me your other hand.”

Shaw’s eyes widen, no longer orange tinted and his arms shake.

“T-the Weapon. Where is it!?”

“Shaw, please_!”

“It’s mine!”

“I’m trying to help you, Shaw. My hand is slipping! I can’t hold on much longer!”

“Give it to me! I need it!”

In desperation, he slams the muzzle to where Beck’s hand was. Luckily, Beck is quick and pulls his hand back, but he feels his sweaty hand losing grip on Shaw’s.

“Shaw _don’t_”_

Shaw’s wrist slips through his grip but he isn’t quick enough this time. Shaw screams as he falls, arms flailing to try and slow himself as he goes farther and farther…

CRACK

Shaw stops screaming and Beck’s eyes widen as he can see Shaw’s body, broken and positioned awkwardly upon the ground far below him.

He turns away, feeling nausea fight up his throat. His fingers fumble with the snaps but his shaking hands manage to pull off his mask and he takes a deep gasp of air, the tears cool against the sides of his eyes. He can’t make himself look back to Shaw’s body, its imprint already in Beck’s mind.

To distract himself, he looks across the floor to where he can see the capsule. This sight only makes it worse as he turns away again, now facing the sky.

He has to tell Tron what happened.

So with a sigh, he gets to his feet, grasping the capsule before slipping back on his mask.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, at the garage, Zed is bent over a car, working on the engine.

THWANG

Zed cries out, hands gripping the top of his head as he pushes back up top and he hears the laughter.

“Careful Zed.” Zed drops his hands at the teasing voice of Hopper. “Those things can be dangerous.”

“Can I help you with something? I’m kinda busy here so_”

He had just turned back to the engine when a hand slams the lid down closed. He glares up to the two taller men.

“Not anymore.” Bartik leans against the side of the car as Hopper advances.

“We’ve got direct orders from _Commander Paige_ to be here. So if I were you,” Hopper pokes Zed hard in the chest, “I’d cooperate_”

“Cooperate with _what_?”

The three turn as Mara approaches, her eyes burning into each of them with suspicion.

After Bartik and Hopper exchange a look, Hopper pushes Zed back to where he stumbles next to Mara.

“Tesler’s expecting his modified tank by the end of the week. So we’re here to make sure _your_ pretty little hands _work as fast as they can.”_

“My _pretty little fists,_ ” she begins to roll up the sleeves on her uniform, “work _even faster_. If you would like me to demonstrate…”

“Zed! Mara!”

Both workers look to Abel approaching, his gaze even.

“Is there a problem?”

Mara unclenches her hands settles on putting them on her waist as the two strangers groan.

“Yeah. Two of them. But they were just leaving.”

“What she said!” Zed pipes up.

“Well good.” Abel stops in between them, his face softening from the anger it had taken, “Lots of work to be done.”

He continues on, “No time to be standing around chatting.”

“We’ll be back.” Hopper promises after a moment, turning to leave, “And that tank had better be finished. Otherwise…there really _will_ be a problem.”

Hopper begins to leave and Bartik follows, but not before mimicking Zed.

“What he said.”

This causes the duo to laugh on their way out, the two workers still watching them. After a moment, Zed sighs before bending down to pick up his strewn work.

“Here…” Mara’s voice softens as she begins to approach. “Let me help you_”  
“I got it.” He snaps back, returning to his work station as Mara stops, watching him go.

* * *

 

“The Renegade killed the scientist, sir. Then made off with the Weapon.”

Tesler raises an eyebrow at this.

“And you just… _let him_ escape?”

The soldier doesn’t answer and Pavel worms his way in, leaning close into the soldier’s personal space. The soldier doesn’t flinch.

“Your general just asked you a question. Answer him.”

Tesler’s eyes narrow and Pavel barely has enough time to jump out of the way as Tesler’s hand stretches its force into the soldier’s body violently, on through him, and then returning again, splitting the body in near half with a loud SNAP. Paige and Pavel stand off to the side, wide-eyed at the sudden action.

“I accept your resignation.” Telser says finally as his hand returns to him.

Paige blinks, then shakes her head.

“General.”

Her eyes narrow and Pavel looks to her as she continues.

“I’ll take the lead on this.”

“Do whatever you have to do!” Tesler rises, “But bring me that weapon!” 

He storms out of the room as Paige nods and leaves as well, leaving Pavel alone, staring at the body.

* * *

 

“A massive upgrade in strength and agility. If this Weapon had found its way to Tesler, his forces would have been insurmountable.”

“So…I did good?”

Tron turns from the collected data to Beck as he snaps.

“What about the scientist? The idea was to bring him in alive!”

“He attacked me.” Beck’s reasoning voice is quiet against Tron’s anger. “I tried to save him…”

He looks down, seeing Shaw’s body in his mind’s eyes.

“But…I couldn’t.”

Tron had already moved on, not looking to his apprentice.

“Then this prototype is all that’s left the technology. If Tesler believes this was destroyed, it should buy us some time.”

“To do what?”

Tron sets down the data, and looks to him, “Destroy it.”

“How do we do that?”

“Know of any easily accessible high-powered energy welders?” Tron’s burning sarcasm lightly singes as he begins to walk down the stairs past Beck.

“If only we knew someone who works at a garage. Oh wait,” Beck scoffs and Tron stops, “ _I_ work at a garage. But why a welder?”

“Insurance that it is destroyed.”

“A hammer would do that just fine.”

Tron turns with the capsule, “This weapon is far more dangerous than you know, Beck. Destroy it immediately.”

Beck reaches out for it, but Tron pulls back before he can even touch it.

“I’m serious.”

Beck meets his gaze solidly for approximately one second before smirking and slipping it through his mentor’s hands and into his hands. “When are you ever _not_ serious?”

He’s halfway down the stairs when he looks back up.

“Don’t worry.” He reassures, “I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

He continues on and away and Tron watches him, eyes narrowed on the retreating figure.

* * *

 

Later, Beck enters the city as the sun is beginning to set. He looks to it once, then back to the road in thought.

_Perfect timing. At this rate, I’ll be able to slip into the garage and destroy the Weapon without any problems…._

_Wait a second._

_Is that…smoke?_

Indeed, he looks up and can see the flames from the road he’s taking.

“Looks like trouble.”

He crosses onto the exit and screeches around the corner, glad his mask is in the seat right beside him. He parks a distance away, and slips out of the car, pulling on the mask as he rushes to the scene.

He pushes his way through the crowd and can hear the murmurs and the screams coming from the fire.

“They’re still inside….”

“Someone HELP! Help us!”

“HANG ON!” He calls, pulling out his dagger, unsheathing it to show the laser blade. “I’ll get you out!”

Opening the door takes some time, as he’s dodging the hot metal. Yet the door finally falls back and he rushes to in front of it.

“Come on. Let’s go…”

He doesn’t know what or who he expects to be within, but he steps back in surprise at the overwhelming amount of soldiers. Soldiers that are armed and already slowly advancing.

He tenses, hearing footsteps and cries from the crowd and he knows what’s coming for him.

“On second thought, _I’ll go_.” He jumps, grabbing the edge of the still hot metal with both hands. He holds back a hiss, and swings his feet. They land on something round and he pushes off, giving enough momentum to land him on top. He pushes off the ground and begins to run.

He’s blindsided and is pushed from the top with a grunt to where he slams to the ground. He hears the crowd gasp and he looks up. His vision is blurry and he looks up to the see the crowd pushing back and the guards running to close in but more importantly, in front of him, rolling away…

_The Weapon!_

He manages to grab the capsule with one hand and pulls it back to him. He tries to get to his knees when he’s overwhelmed, soldier upon soldier above and everywhere around him. He can’t move, can’t fight, can’t cry for help. He can’t….

Power.

Raw power bursts within him and courses throughout. Strength builds in his muscles.

He can do this!

He. Can. Do. This.

The soldiers fly with a cry from him and he stands tall, the power manifesting itself.

Never before was there something crying from inside, a force ready to fly from his fingertips like tongues of fire. His shoulders relax and he looks to the guards, settling himself into a position ready to fight.

“Alright…” his voice rumbles through his whole being, making him smirk, “Who’s next?”

His gaze follows across the hesitating guards. Then in a flash, he rushes at a guard in the center. He jumps up, spinning his foot back to kick the guard, who falls back and skids as the Renegade lands.

This action breaks the stillness and the guards rush at him. He’s blocking before they can even reach him, and their hits never make a mark on him. They both resort to discs and he goes to one hand, placing the other on his side in a bored gesture. Though his fun is revived when he slides down and kicks, making one of the two fall. He uses the momentum to spin his feet and hit not one, but two of the waiting guards.  He’s a blur upon the line, spinning and kicking guards left and right. He knocks one off their feet before crossing to slam his fist into another guard. He kicks the next simply in the gut and finally, he races across to jump, spin, and there goes the last guard.

He lands in a crouch, the guards all around him still. He’s panting, but a dark grin is upon his face.

_That was fun._

He stands and the grin disappears momentarily as he turns to the light and sound behind him.

“You have something that belongs to me.” The commander’s voice states through the staticky mic.

“You want it?” The grin returns in full force, daring her to challenge, “COME GET IT!”

He knows she takes him up on his challenge as the gunfire begins and he runs. He sees an incoming tunnel and diverts into it. Surprisingly, she still follows, guns still blazing. He glances back once as the lights brighten the tunnelway. He rushes to the wall, pushing up high enough then off, back arcing to grab one of the poles that held the lights up. His hands slip and he’s falling again, the chopper just underneath him. One false move, and he’ll be strips of Renegade.

He twists to where his feet face down and he’s falling again….

The back shape of the chopper passes in front of him and he lands on his feet in a crouch. He turns away, not even worrying about the commander making a comeback. That’s the thing about this tunnel; it’s too narrow for the chopper to turn, as he expects her to do.

And he’s right. She’s instantly at the controls and begins to turn. The back hits the lights one of the wings stutters against. Alarms begin to ring and she pulls the escape latch. It barely propels her out of the way as it explodes. The force sends her to the ground as she rolls. She comes to a stop, panting, and sees that the Renegade is gone.

He pulls open his car door, tossing his helmet into the passenger seat and pulls on a jacket over his top, zipping it up to hide the white. He looks down to his pocket and pulls out the Weapon. His orange tinted brown eyes glance up at the mirror, then back to the Weapon before smirking and putting it back in his pocket.

_Tron’s wrong. This isn’t bad._

_I think I’ll hold onto it for a while._

* * *

 

“Time’s up, Zed!”

Indeed, a week had passed already and Bartik and Hopper had cornered Zed near the front of the garage.

“Where’s the tank?”

Zed puts up his hands for distance between him and Hopper, “Abel’s working on it. You know, a couple last-minute touches_”

He flinches as Hopper’s hand smacks the wall next to his head, creating a barrier from his escape.

“We need it now.”

Zed narrows his eyes before rolling them. “That’s great, but last time I checked, _we don’t work for you_!”

“Wrong again, Zed!” Hopper invades his personal space, before nearly growling, “Because we’re here as representatives of Tesler’s army.”

“That’s funny.” All three look up to the boy with the dark look as he approaches, “I don’t see any Tesler, and I certainly don’t see any army.”

Zed watches Beck, but a flash of blue catches his eye and he can see Mara across the street, having just exited the orphanage, looking back. His eyes flick to Beck desperately.

“Beck, I can handle this.”

However, everyone ignores him as Bartik and Hopper leave him alone and Beck continues to slowly advance.

“If I were you, I would leave. Before things get embarrassing.” His lip corners upward slightly at the thought.

“You know what’s embarrassing? How fast you’re gonna hit the ground!” Hopper boasts, “With two of us, versus one of you.”

“Wow Hopper.” Beck’s voice lowers as he tilts his head, “I had no idea you could count that high.”

Hopper’s eyes widen then narrow in the span of a second and he lunges out with his fist, expecting to hit the mechanic. He gasps as his fist is caught, and he looks up to Beck’s orange-tinted eyes as he smirks and a low chuckle leaves him. Then with one hand, Hopper falls on his back and before he can move, Beck is on top of him and he can feel the threat of the blade right over his head.

“You’re right.” Beck shrugs, “That _was_ embarrassing.”

“Beck STOP!”

Two hands grab him and pull him off Hopper. He turns in anger, but doesn’t raise his blade against an angry Mara. Bartik pulls Hopper to his feet as Beck calmly faces Mara’s wrath.

“What is wrong with you!?! You could’ve seriously hurt them_”

“Just wait till Tesler hears about this!” Hopper calls. Beck turns to advance on him again and the duo scuttles before they can see Mara stop him.

“Oh no you don’t! Do you realize how much trouble you could’ve gotten in?”

When he doesn’t answer, she exclaims something and goes back the way she came. He sees her tightly grab the hand of Linda, who had seen the entire thing, and pull her along. The young girl’s gaze follows Beck for a long moment before she has to turn back around.

“Gee, thanks a lot, Beck.”

Beck pulls from his thoughts and glares at Zed, “What’s your problem?”

“You should’ve let me handle it!” Zed exclaims, eyes soft, “Instead you made me look like a _coward_ in front of Mara!”  
“I didn’t _make_ you look like anything.” Beck argues, towering over Zed as he advances, “And if you don’t want anyone to think you’re a coward… _then stop acting like one_!” The last part of the phrase is enunciated with a push. Zed grunts, and looks up to Beck with spooked eyes and a posture to run and Beck hesitates.

Something…something isn’t right…

The Weapon. It must be wearing off.

So he turns and leaves Zed, heading out into the street, hand reaching into his pocket.

“Mods are done. This is good to go.”

He freezes, hand still in pocket. He withdraws his hand, and leans against the wall, listening.

“So long as general Tesler’s pleased, I’m pleased.” Abel replies to Dash. He takes the data from Dash and continues.

“I’ll be more pleased with it’s on Tesler’s base. Ship it.”

He hits the side of the tank before preparing for travel. Beck is watching around the corner.

“Tesler’s base….”

He has to be quick. If what he’s planning is going to work, he needs to move fast.

He leans against the wall, pulling out the capsule. He pulls out the needle, places it in the exact same spot he had done multiple times before, and with a grunt, he can feel it seeping in. His trembling hands put it back together and he glances side to side. No one saw him. Good. He sighs as he puts it in his pocket before rushing across the street.

Compared to how quickly he assembled, the ride is agonizingly slow. Stored away in the tank, he listens to the clanking around him as he crouches, feeling his impatience grow with each passing moment.

When he finally decides to peek his head out, he can see the dark pristine floors beneath him and the interior and he knows.

Tesler watches above with crossed arms. He barely glances to Pavel beside him.

“I see my tank has arrived. Assemble a team for inspection.”

“Right away, sir.” Is all Pavel says in return before leaving the general alone.

“Wanna know what I see?”

Or so he thought.

He turns as out of the darkness, the Renegade approaches in his donned white.

“I see a coward.”

The term causes the general to clench his fists, and they light up with power. This doesn’t make the Renegade stop.

“Hiding behind minions and lackeys.”

“I’m not the one dressing up,” Tesler snaps back, “Hiding behind the memory of a dead man!”

He lunges out and his arm stretches. But the Renegade pulls the sword out of the sheath on his back, blocking his fist before advancing forwards. Tesler grunts and the Renegade jumps up over his fist, twisting in the air before landing gracefully behind him. He turns and easily dodges the angry throws. He stops one and manages to kick the larger man and felt the air that left him as he stumbles back.

He rushes at the general, but he manages to stumble back. But the Renegade is relentless and lands blows before Tesler stumbles back again, sparks coming off his arm from where the Renegade’s sword had hit and because of this, a low laugh makes its way to the general.

Thrusting down, his hands grip either side of the ground in front of him. With a grunt, he pulls up and part of the floor rises up, sending the Renegade flying back. He lands safely as Tesler begins to run. Sighing in impatience, he sheaths his sword, takes a couple steps back, and runs, propelling himself up and over the gap. He manages to land steadily.

“Look like you crawled onto the wrong ship!” Tesler calls, stepping into a weapon with the guns on the helmet descending upon his head and triggers in his hands.

“Yeah.” The Renegade mutters, “I get that a lot.”

He runs forward, dodging gunfire as he pulls back out his sword. Closer and closer he gets until he gives a war cry and jumps upon it, slicing the helmet in half, causing the guns to overload. He’s able to step away fast enough before it blows up in Tesler’s face, causing the general to fall to his knees. When he looks up again, the Renegade is hanging onto the bridge.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He turns his gaze to the tank and among the guards, his breathing stops momentarily as he recognizes one person.

“Abel.” He breaths, but looks up just in time to see Tesler’s hand reach for him. He jumps up, avoiding it, and when he lands, presses down to the floor. He pushes up and begins to run when he’s blindsided by the hand, knocking him off the bridge. His hands grapple with the edge and he climbs back up. He jumps to the side as the hand burst through the floor. He runs, and can hear the hand chasing after him. He jumps up and the hand rises. He lands on the other side of Tesler to see he’s standing in one spot, watching him. His hands quickly return to him and he aims at the Renegade, who ducks with a gasp. He hears a whoosh above him and turns to see Tesler fly away, laughing.

_What is he…?_

He stops in mid-thought at the beeping and whips around to the bomb.

“Great.” He mutters, then runs, jumping for the nearby ship leaving the hangar. The bomb explodes as he lands and the bridges falls apart, landing on this ship. A wing is disabled and it begins to descend in a fiery crash. He jumps off to see the ship crash into the tank and explode.

ABEL!  
Panting, he gets to his feet and pushes through the wreckage until he can find Abel. His boss is slumped over some wreckage, not stirring. He puts his hand on Abel and looks to his face.

Oh god…

Oh god that’s a lot of blood.

Scarlet stains his white uniform but he doesn’t care as he picks up his boss.

“SEAL THE SHIP!”

But by the time they do, the Renegade is long gone.

Beck glances to Abel, laid across the back row of the army jeep. He sighs before focusing on the road.

It’s already dark when he pulls up in front of the orphanage. He quietly sets the jeep in park before climbing out. His hands are shaking, but he manages to pull Abel out gently. He stares at the door and hesitates. He could enter now, wake the whole building up for help. But then they would know. They would see his bloodstained outfit and _know_ whose blood it is and _know_ whose fault it was.

_And they’re not wrong._

_It’s…it’s my fault._

He decides not to enter but takes a shaky breath as he kneels. He has barely set Abel down when the door opens. He gasps and makes the mistake of looking upward.

Linda is watching him. Her expression betrays nothing immediately, though after a moment, she looks to Abel, then back to Beck’s exposed face and bloody clothing and horror crosses her face as she puts it together. Beck can feel the pressure around his eyes and looks away. He stands and almost runs back to the jeep. He doesn’t look back as he climbs in and zooms off.

When he ditches the jeep, he doubles back to where he climbs into his room. As he enters, he can hear that everyone’s awake and aware of Abel’s situation. Hurriedly, he shuts his window and dives into the closet, tearing off the uniform and switching into regular clothes and runs out to join the throng of children and teens below. An ambulance is outside and Dash and Copper help make sure Abel is inside. He stops short of the stairs to watch and the group murmurs as the sirens squeal and the ambulance heads towards the hospital.

* * *

 

“How is he?”

“He’s just come to. You can see him if you want.”

Mara nods and she, Zed, Dash, Copper, and Linda enter the room.

Abel looks up to them and Mara let out an involuntary gasp, immediately rushing to her boss’s side.

“Are you alright? How did this happen?”

He looks to her and says one word.

“Tron.”

“ _He_ did this?”

“No.” Abel groans as he sits up slightly (Copper setting a hand to steady him), “He was trying to take out Tesler. There was an explosion and…Tron saved me.”

“Sounds like the Renegade almost got you killed!”

Mara glares up to Zed in warning, “Zed!”

“What?” He uncrosses his arms, “This guy’s no Tron; he’s a menace! And it’s only a matter of time before we all end up like casualties like Abel!”

Beck’s sitting in a chair outside of the room, listening, his head bowed as he looks at his hands. He seems to grow even smaller and tighter as Zed’s voice softens.

“Or worse.”

* * *

 

Days pass in silence, and Abel is brought back from the hospital. However, he doesn’t see Beck; no one does. As soon as the group had gotten home, he had gone upstairs and locked himself in his room. Some would say he was grieving, but only one knew the truth. And Beck couldn’t bring himself to answer the door when Linda would knock.

It’s Sunday when he finds himself staring across his desk at the capsule. He’s already taken it multiple times in his isolation, but dose was becoming less and less satisfactory. His head is lying on the wood, and he looks across at the capsule. He sighs, but says nothing.

His head jerks up, though, as he hears the roar of engines. He gets up from his chair and goes to the window where he could see three ships have landed around the two buildings he frequented the most. Grunting, he opens the window and watches as the guards surround the people that had been passing through. Some were lucky to have fled, but others….

He sees Mara’s aqua hair among the crowd and knows Zed’s not far behind. He flings himself from the window back into his room, digging through his closet as he pulls out a bag. He finds the stained white uniform and stuffs it in. He shoulders the bag and is about to leave when he sees the Weapon on his desk. He watches it, hesitating.

After a moment, he picks it up, injects it and pockets it before climbing out the window. It doesn’t settle any ill feelings, but if what Beck thinks is about to happen happens, he’ll need it.

The orphans below fearfully exchange a look with each other as a man steps out form one of the ships.

“Greetings. By orders of general Tesler, these two facilities are now under military control.”

Pavel grins darkly, clasping his hands together, “Consider yourselves _prisoners of war_.”

* * *

 

“I thought I told you to get rid of the Weapon. You _lied_ to me! If Tesler had recovered it_”

“But he didn’t !” Beck snaps back.

“You were lucky.”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it! I took care of him on _my own_!”

“Listen to yourself, Beck.” Tron points, “That weapon is _poison_. And now because of you, Tesler’s ready to kill everyone in the garage and orphanage until _you_ turn it in!”

Beck’s cocky gaze falls and he looks down and away. He grips his arm for reassurance, but feels nothing.

“And he won’t stop there!”

“Then help me. Please.” Tron blinks and readjusts his surprised gaze on Beck and his now soft voice. He takes a shuddering breath and forces himself to continue, his eyes pleading desperately as he meets his mentor’s gaze.

“I can use it to save my friends! Teach me how to control it and_”

“ _You can’t._ ” Beck goes silent at Tron’s harsh tone. He sighs and shakes his head, “You have to destroy it.”

“No….” Beck’s gaze turns solid and his eyes narrow, “I _need_ it.”

“Then your friends are already dead.”

No….Beck bites his lip. No no no no no no no!

He can see their faces in his mind and he blinks them away in desperation.

“This kind of power comes at a price, Beck.” Tron’s coming towards him, no emotion on his face except hard resign, “If you won’t destroy it, I will.”

He reaches towards the bulge in Beck’s jacket pocket and the boy’s eyes snap open.

He pushes Tron away. An elbow to the chest sends Tron stumbling back, but after a shake of his head, he returns. The cornered animal look in Beck’s eyes makes obvious of what he is feeling as he swings. He makes a mark and grabs Tron’s arm, swinging him around. He holds out Tron’s arm and with a cry, pulls out his knife. Tron raises his head as the blade is set next to his neck. Beck numbly looks to the blade in his hand, and when Beck looks back up, the hard look in his eyes is gone.

“I…I didn’t mean…”

Tron gently diverts the blade away from him and to Beck’s side.

“Now do you see why it needs to be destroyed?”

Even at Tron’s soft words, Beck doesn’t look up or answer.

“I chose you for a reason, Beck.” He puts a gentle hand on Beck’s shoulder. “You’re strong: both physically and mentally. Now prove it.”

Beck looks up to him, the orange tint still in his eyes, but much more hollow. After a moment, Beck takes the capsule out of his pocket and hands it to Tron, who pushes it back.

“You need to destroy it. It will help you fight this.”

“How?” His voice is quiet.

Tron meets his gaze before turning away, “You’ll know.”

Beck watches him go but moments later, Tron comes back, holding a uniform without stain.

“And now that this is clean….you might want to change into it.”

Beck looks down to it, then back up to Tron, before nodding, “Right.”

* * *

 

Each person was brought into the garage. Those who had been hiding there either fled again or were dragged out of hiding and into the prison circle. Everyone was cuffed, before a span of guards circled them. Just outside the circle, still stands two boys who look quite pleased with themselves at what had happened.

“You brought them here?!?” Zed exclaims, looking through the guards to Bartik and Hopper.

“You brought this on _yourself._ ” Bartik replies, voice taunting. Mara looks up at the voice and her eyes narrow.

“When I get out of these restraints, I’m gonna_”

“You’re gonna what?” Hopper cuts over her, “Beat me up? Teach me a lesson?” To this Bartik chuckles.

Her gaze doesn’t waver or flinch, “I was gonna say _kill you_.”

Hopper acts surprised and both mockingly flinch before laughing and walking away. 

Beck can hear their laughter on the other side of the garage. He slips quietly past the large group, through the abandoned projects and workstations. Reaching out, he slips around the curve before opening the door. Immediately he sees the laser and rushes to it.

_Well…this is what Tron wanted me to do in the first place…_

He pulls the capsule out but stops, caught by its seemingly harmless appearance. He sets it down on the platform before adjusting the laser to his needs. Once done, he rushes back through the door, closing it, and heads to the control panel. He calibrates the controls and once done, the button to proceed flashes. He stares at a moment more, before closing his eyes and pushing the button.

The room flashes before fading to regular light again and he opens the door, searching for the evidence. On the platform there’s…nothing, nothing except for the outline of the vial.

_How….?_

He looks up as he hears footsteps and he tenses. Pavel comes lazily from around the corner.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you?” Pavel flashes the capsule, “Never leave your valuables unattended!”

Beck looks between Pavel and the platform.

_What?_

_How_?  
_It doesn’t matter, as Pavel injects the needle into the crook of his arm. The power noticeably courses through the commander who gives a crazed laughs as it hits full force.

Beck lunges and Pavel blocks. He catches the Renegade’s arm and flips him over with THUD against the ground. He kicks up, but Pavel steps back, giving enough time for Beck to scramble to his feet. Pavel jumps up and swings at Beck but misses. He continues relentlessly, swing by swing by swing as Beck blocks and retaliates.

“My my my,” Pavel fingers his gun as Beck lands in a crouch. “how the mighty have fallen!”

He shoots but Beck jumps out of the way, causing a bullet-hole in the wall where Beck had been. The Renegade in turn advances, not having a gun of his own. The blade is quick, but Pavel is even quicker.

“I always knew I was smarter than you.”

Beck tries to ignore him and hit again but Pavel ducks.

“But now I’m faster!”

Beck swings again and he dodges before twisting and kicking Beck to the floor.

“And stronger!”  
Beck scrambles to his feet and runs, Pavel right on his heels. He’s near the control panel again outside of the laser. Pavel’s block throws him off. He stumbles to turn but Pavel is on the other side of him.

“Now, I’M INDESTRUCTABLE!”

He grabs Beck’s helmet, slamming it into the control panel. The top of his helmet hits the activation button and the alarm goes off to warn of the laser’s work.

He manages to push off Pavel, forcing himself to ignore it.

But the mechanics don’t.

They see the laser cut through the wall separating it from the rest of the garage. Crying out, Zed and Mara duck as right in front of them, their former captors are cut in half.

“The Renegade!” Mara cries, standing back up, “He’s come to save us!”

Zed stands to see the Renegade fly back after Pavel’s foot had connected with his chest.

“Then who’s coming to save him?” This question is met by an elbow to the ribs, “Ow!”  
Beck ducks down as he lands but stands to meet Pavel’s throw as all around them havoc was beginning to stir as soldiers were killed and the laser cut into projects hanging above them all.

Zed manages to get free of the cuffs before rushing over to help Mara. It’s an easy combination he learned and she’s soon free.

“Come on. Help me with the others.”

Mara nods and follows his lead.

“It’s intoxicating, isn’t it!?” Pavel calls over the noise as he leaps over the laser and nearly lands on Beck, who jumps back, feeling the heat of the laser pass over him.

“Raw merciless power!”

The crafting of a jet falls between them, creating dust and debris. Pavel grunts as he tries to the find the Renegade through the dust.

Jets were beginning to fall as soldiers and civilians alike are running through the chaos. Mara tries not to notice, but frees one of her friends.

“MARA!”  
She cries out as she’s knocked off her feet.

CRASH

Zed covers his head, wincing slightly before looking down to Mara. Her eyes are closed and she’s still.

No.

No no no no no no_

“ZED!”

He turns at the voice to see Abel, bandaged up and gesturing for him to come. Carefully, he picks up the unconscious Mara and, dodging the falling debris, made his way to Abel.

“Head to the tunnel!”

He glances back at a noise to see Bartik and Hopper among the mess.

“I’ll meet you down there!”

He doesn’t stick around for Abel’s answer.

Meanwhile, Hopper’s trying to lift the part of an aircraft off Bartik’s pinned legs. Groaning, sweat beads on his forehead and his arms shake with strain.

Suddenly, it rises and he turns to Zed pushing up with a pole he found, making enough room for Bartik to crawl out.

“We gotta get out of here!” Hopper exclaims, eyes wide.

“Come,” Zed drapes Bartik’s arm over his shoulder, “This way. Follow me!”

The trio flees the garage, leaving Pavel and the Renegade the last two live occupants.

Pavel, meanwhile, is searching among the wreckage, looking far and wide.

But not up. For from above, Beck plants his feet into Pavel’s back, knocking him down. His gun and the Weapon scatter out of his reach and he goes still. Beck kicks away the gun, but picks up the capsule. He examines it for a long moment, then glances up to the incoming laser above him.

_I can control it. It doesn’t have to be like this__

_No._

_This is enough_.

Face set, he thrusts his arm in the air, barely holding on to the capsule. He feels the glass rain down on him and he opens his finger to let it all fall. And that’s where he leaves it.

* * *

 

When dawn approaches again, everyone comes up from the safety of the tunnel to find the garage in near pieces (the orphanage is surprisingly okay).

Immediately people set to work. Everyone has a job, whether it being repairing tools, vehicles, or tending to the injured.

“You took a pretty nasty hit. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“For the hundredth time, Zed, yes.” She gives him a long look before continuing to wrap the injury on her arm, “It takes more than that to keep me down.”

_Don’t I know it._

She finishes and wistfully looks to the side, “I just..wish he were here. So I could thank him.”

“Who?”

“Tron. Who else? He saved my life…he saved all our lives.”

“Right.” Zed looks down sourly, “The Renegade.”

“It wasn’t Tron.”

Both look to Beck in confusion as he enters.

“What?”

“He’s not the one who saved you.” Beck clarifies, coming to a stop next to Zed. He then puts a hand on Zed’s shoulder, looking to him, “It was Zed.”

_Wait what?_

_How does he know?_

Mara looks genuinely surprised.

“Really? You did that?”

“Well I-I mean uh…” He stutters than fakes a cough, regaining his fake composure. “It was nothing.”

It quickly disappears though, as Mara takes his hand in both of hers. He meets her gaze.

“Thank you.”

Beck smirks and begins to leave them alone. He’s to the edge of the garage when Zed catches up with him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did.” Beck disagrees, hands in his pockets, “She should know the truth.”

He continues across the street but Zed calls after him.

“How’d you know? That it was me and not Tron-I mean, the Renegade. You weren’t even there.”

Beck stops, freezing in thought.

_No._

_I wasn’t really._

“Yeah but…” He turns to look to Zed, smirking, “Mara doesn’t know that.”

“I-I really did save her, you know.”

Beck’s gaze is kind, “I believe you.”

He continues across the street as Zed re-enters the garage. He steps into the orphanage, and glances around before he sees her. She’s sitting at the table alone, coloring. Quietly, he slides in next to her.

“What’cha coloring?”

She doesn’t even look up, “A get well card for Bartik. He can’t go anywhere because he hurt his leg, so I thought I would give him something nice.”

“That’s very nice of you.” He lets this hang in the air for a moment, watching her color rapidly the bottom part of the paper grey.

Finally, he sighs, “Linda…about the other night…when I was….”

“When you were the Renegade.” She’s straight to the point about it, so serious for a young kid.

“Well yeah…but that wasn’t the only night I’ve been the Renegade. I’ve been the Renegade since he…I first appeared.”

She nods.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I haven’t been in the best of…attitudes lately.”

“It’s okay. You just needed an attitude adjustment. ” She stops coloring and looks to him, “Do Zed and Mara know?”

“Know that I needed an attitude adjustment?”

“No. That you’re the Renegade.”

“No…” he shook his head after a moment, “No one knows but you.”

“Oh….”

“Can you keep it a secret? For me?”

She’s quiet for a moment, watching him quietly.

“I pinkie promise!” She holds out her pinky in his direction.

He smiles, and links his pinky with hers, “Pinky promise.”

“Good.”

And he knew immediately she would keep her word.

* * *

 

“DESTROYED!?!?”  
Pavel cowers beneath Tesler’s roar.

“I promise you, sir. I won’t disappoint you again.”

Tesler calms just slightly and sits back down, dismissing him.

Pavel leaves the throne room to see Paige is leaning against the wall. She’s smirking at him, proud of how it turned out. However, he ignores her, starting towards the elevator. It descends quietly and lets him out outside of his room. As he approaches the door, he types in a key code that instantly unlocks it. He turns the knob and closes it behind him. He looks back once, before rushing to a contraption across the room. He looks into it, finding a match…

The formula.

He found it.

_He found it!_

_The Weapon could be restored and within his grasp once again!_

And this alone, causes the crazed laughter to echo again.


	11. Chapter Ten- Witch Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank @iamthetruenhaz on Tumblr for their post about the content of each episode, and thus giving me the name and understanding for this chapter: witch hunt.

The city rests before him, submissive in the orange glow of the Occupation at last. This is his city now, the one he rules with an iron fist of what he considers justice.   
On this cycle in particular, he stands alone in front of the view. The room is empty, save for Tesler's bulky form.   
However, something felt....off. If you were in good enough graces with him to be allowed to ask, he wouldn't tell you whether he knew why or not.   
He turns back to the view. Perhaps it was nothing at all. Perhaps he actually _misses_ the challenge of dissent...  
There's a scream and Tesler whips around to see a dagger slide across the floor as it its owner had thrown. But _who_ was the owner?  
He scans the room, searching for the wielder of the blade, only to find he's alone. Still, he doesn't relax. He can't seem to. Glancing around one last time, he bends down to retrieve the weapon.   
The hand that grabs his is sudden and his gaze snaps up.  
“ _Help me_.” The guard pulls himself forward, head struggling to rise to Tesler. Blood spills across the floor, and his midriff, legs...all missing... “ _Please!_ ”  
Tesler throws off the guard's grip as the other guard's hand reached out for him. This doesn't stop the guard, who drags himself forward, reaching out for Tesler.   
“ _Please! Help me...._ ”  
The sword is sudden, and the guard screams as it pierces his body. His trembling hand reaches out for Tesler one last time before it falls to the floor with a thud. Tesler's horrified gape lifts from the body of the guard to the killer as they set a foot on the guard's back and pull out the sword. The tip is stained red and the Renegade holds it ready at his side, the hidden, yet eerie gaze of the rebel causing the hairs on Tesler's neck to stand up.   
“ _I'm reclaiming Argon_.”   
Any fear within the general evaporates within moments and his eyes narrow.  
“It's mine! There's no going back!”  
He charges at the Renegade, glowing hands thrown out to seize. The Renegade doesn't move, but merely watches Tesler rapidly approach. Tesler's fists clenches, but when he swings at the rebel's head, he glides out of the way. His laugh, dark and taunting, resonates as he backs away, his feet not even touching the ground to complete the ideal of a specter consumed with vengeance.  
Tesler growls, lunging again, only for the Renegade to dodge each strike.   
“What will it take to do away with you?”  
The Renegade doesn't reply, merely stepping out of the way when Tesler reaches out for him. His hand slams into the screen of the computer nearby, shattering the glass.  
“ _Do away with me_?”   
He's behind me! Tesler tries to glance back, but can only see a partial of the rebel.   
“ _You and what army?”_  
Tesler pulls his arm from the screen and turns on the Renegade. Still unable to land a blow, he grits his teeth. By the time he stops, he is breathing through clenched teeth.  
But wait...the Renegade is in a corner now, with his back to the glass and nowhere to go.  
Tesler smirks, but rarely registering the rebel's laugh as he approaches.  
“Yeah...it's over, Renegade.”  
The Renegade doesn't reply, instead laughing again. Tesler's smirk vanishes, and he yells as he shoots his hand forward, to rip this nuisance to whatever will stop him. An example must be made....  
The Renegade leaps over him, back arching smoothly as all Tesler can do is watch. The rebel lands on his feet and Tesler grunts as he falls to his knees. He lifts his head to feel the blade threaten against his neck.  
“Think again.”  
Tesler's gaze travels from the sword to his and the Renegade's reflection in the glass, and the city beyond.  
“It's only the beginning.”  
At his word, blue corrupts the orange and spreads across the city. Tesler's eyes widen.   
“No!”  
The blue infiltrates the ship and it burns...it burns!  
“No!”  
In the reflection, the Renegade pulls the blade across Tesler's throat, cutting deep and through and pulling across....  
Telser wakes with a gasp. He stumbles out of bed, crossing to the stand. He leans into it, and his hands connect to his arms as he struggles to regulate his breathing. When they finish latching, he puts a hand to his neck as he looks to his reflection. There was no scar, no sign that anything within the dream actually happened. Tesler sighs, dropping his hand. But the dream has a point. There will be a day when the Renegade will confront him to reclaim Argon, and when he does, he will stop at nothing to do so.   
So he has to end this now. And his men, incompetent as they are, have proven time and time again they are no match for him. But...an example must be made.  
He straightens, leveling a glare at his reflection, and exits his quarters.   
Near his seat, his commanders seem to be in conversation. However, as Pavel notices him, he straightens. Paige, however, turns her head to see him approach.  
“Failure is no longer an option.” He approaches Paige. “I want the Renegade brought to his knees, and I want it done now.”  
She doesn't blink, doesn't flinch, doesn't even bend as he towers over her. “How can I help?”  
“You can't!” He leaves her behind, approaching Pavel. “This time I intend to play the odds, let someone else flush out the Renegade. Someone more attuned to the streets.”  
“I await your orders your sagaciousness.” Pavel bows in his presence.   
“Well keep waiting!” Tesler spats and Pavel freezes in his bow, but Tesler doesn't care as he turns away. “I am turning over the task of catching the Renegade to the people of Argon.”  
“What?”  
“Get everybody to the Coliseum! And I mean everybody!”  
Neither seem to hesitate in his orders. Paige takes off, probably to spread the news while Pavel sets to work at the controls. Tesler sits at his seat, leaning on his hand in thought.  
An example must be made. And what better way to show everyone than to give them each a hand in the Renegade's fate?

* * *

 

  
Linda holds Abel’s hand tight as he leads the way into the crowd. He hadn’t told her why they were here, but it seemed as if the whole city was present.

Abel finally stops in a standing portion of the rows, near the front so she and the others can see. However, she doesn’t release his hand as she glances around the crowd, hearing everyone’s confused mutters and whispers.

“ _Citizens of Argon.”_

The mutters are hushed and Linda looks up to the regal box across the dirt field.

“ _You are here because a terrorist lives among you. And your failure to identify him makes you all complicit in his crimes!”_

No one argues against the general’s statement, not even whispering their defiance. Linda glances up to Abel to see his jaw set before he resettles in composure. She wants to ask what a terrorist is, and who the general is talking about, but Abel looks down to her and his gaze is a warning as a he puts a finger to his lips.

“ _But I offer you a chance of redemption. Citizens of Argon...Bring. Me. The Renegade.”_

_Beck._

_Not Beck._

She searches the crowd around her for him, realizing she hadn’t seem him enter, only to not find him. Where could he be? Does he know? And what if he doesn’t….?

“ _Of course bringing him to justice is your civic duty and should be reward enough. But since I always put my programs first, I offer you_ this.”

Linda groans and squints at the sudden flash of light. She shields her gaze.

“ _The VLX formula, the only car able to outrun a jet! Provide us with information leading to the capture of the Renegade and this remarkable vehicle_ could be yours!”

A car. Linda lowers her hand to take in the red car  that was sitting on the smooth platform above the dirt, gleaming spotless under the light. Three women in white pose in front of it, gesturing to the fine object. The crowd roars at the sight.

“ _That’s not all!”_

Signs appear and circle the main area, flashing “RENEGADE FREE ARGON” on each screen.

“ _To further our efforts of achieving a Renegade free Argon_”_ everything seems surreal to a child when these flashing lights that sync with the voice talk of killing your friend, your brother_ “ _the curfew is lifted.”_

If the approval of the crowd could grow any louder, it does so at the mere words. Linda lets go of Abel’s hand to cover her ears at the deafening sound.

“ _Congratulations, and happy hunting.”_

She sees a flash of blue, and she turns to see Mara and Zed talking and laughing.

_They couldn’t believe this...could they? It isn’t right! I have to find Beck! I need to warn him__

A hand touches her shoulder and her hands leave her ears. Abel, noticing he now has her attention, grabs her hand.

“Time to go home.” He calls over the cry of the crowd.

“But_” _But what about this? Abel wouldn’t ever let this happen if he knew about Beck__

“I’ll take you somewhere quiet, and then we’ll go home.”

Linda doesn’t try to argue or warn Abel. She did promise she wouldn’t tell. Rather, as Abel is leading her out, she looks up to the sky and...is that a white speck on the edge of the Coliseum? Maybe Beck had seen after all.

And that he had. Far above, he watches the scene and hears the cheering of the crowd. Both he and Tron had found it out that everyone in the city had suddenly been called to the Coliseum, and had merely been cautious spectators at the news.

“Wow.” He finally breaks the silence between the two of them. “And then that happened.”

“Nothing’s changed.” Tron’s gaze doesn’t waver from the crowd, and his expression doesn’t even shift. He finally looks to Beck as he continues. “If anything, we press harder. “

“I’m sorry, did you not see any of that? Everyone’s looking to turn me in and collect the reward!”

“It’s a desperate move on Tesler’s part. You can use it against him.” Beck resists the urge to roll his eyes, and instead closes them to take a deep breath.

“No.” He sighs, opening his eyes. “I say we lay low for while. Take a break.”

“Beck_”

“I don’t have a choice.” Beck finally looks to him, and he doesn’t look away once he does. “It’s too dangerous.”

Tron doesn’t speak for the longest moment, simply meeting his apprentice’s gaze. Finally, he sighs and looks away. “Okay. Part of leading a revolution is knowing when to wait.” He looks back to Beck. “I’ll defer to you on this one.”

“Finally.” Beck relaxes, turning his attention back to the dwindling crowd. He can still see Zed and Mara among a smaller group leaving, and wonders if he could truly keep quiet until this blows over.

* * *

 

He had been sleeping peacefully when the door to his apartment slammed open. Squinting, he turns to his intruders.

“What...what’s going on?”

He’s pulled out of the bed to the floor. When he doesn’t respond immediately, they stab his side. He cries out at the shock and he hears it.

“It’s him! It’s my neighbor! He’s the Renegade!” His neighbor is pointing straight him from next to a sentry.

_What?_

“Based on the unbiased testimony of your neighbor,” the neighbor smirks at ‘unbiased’, “You are hereby suspected of being the Renegade.”

“I’m not the Renegade!” The man is pulled to his feet and as he passes his neighbor, he cries out. “I’m innocent!”

Nobody replies to his comments as they leave his room and head out of the building to join the flock of ‘Renegades’ being detained, causing his screams of protest to grow louder and louder. Nobody stops him, though, so he’s screaming out sobs when the sentries pull him away from his accuser.

“Over here!” Both the neighbor and the remaining sentry turn to the man who is pointing at them. “It’s him! The Renegade!”

The sentry steps away from the first accuser in fear and disgust. The sentries with the other man don’t hesitate as they corner the now accused.

“Wait! It’s not me!” They don’t listen to him anymore as they cuff him and push him along. “ _It’s not me!”_

Paige watches the guards pull along who she silently assumes to be another innocent program before turning her attention to Bartik.

“Sectors three through five reporting all suspects on route.” Bartik reads off the information for the commander and Hopper glances around, occasionally down to Bartik’s leg, even though it had been multiple weeks since the injury.

“That’s it. Let’s wrap it up.”

“Yeah.” Hopper mutters in response to Paige. She doesn’t say anything. Knowing him, he’s not done talking. “ _Ninety_ more Renegades to interrogate. Just what we needed.”

The hand that suddenly grips his shoulder makes him tense and resist the urge to react in fright.

“Is _that_ a _complaint_ , soldier?” Pavel’s voice, though light in pitch, is bearing of a threat. “If so, I’m sure the General would be thrilled to hear your grievance.”

“Uh…” Hopper straightens at attention. “No sir! Uh, happy to serve!”

“Back off, Pavel.” She points at him with challenge for a mere moment. “You hated Tesler’s idea too.”

“Oh _Paige.”_ He hardly seems threatened by her words. “You _poor, deranged creature!_ The Renegade’s changed everything! There’s no going back to the way things were!”

He lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. “I’m telling you, if this works, Tesler will make sweeping changes. And you and I will be the first to be replaced.”

She sighs. “You’re just being paranoid.” She then gestures to Bartik and Hopper. “C’mon. We’re done.”

The street is quiet as the commander and her task force leave Pavel behind simply watching him.

On the other side of Argon, the streets are quiet there, too. The main sweep had come through that morning and now only the occasional person could be heard on the run.

Beck sighs as he leans against the side of the garage, watching a chopper fly. _It will pass,_ he reminds himself. Soon, everyone will calm down about this reward and things will go back to normal….

And if they don’t? What if they realize they haven’t found the Renegade yet and won’t stop the hysteria until he’s found? He has to return to his mission eventually, even if he is fine with the nights off now. Or...what if he’s reported…?

“Beck!”

He jumps at his name and turns to see Zed gesturing for him to come over. He does so, and says. “I already finished my shift, I was just…”

“I know, I know.” Zed interrupts him. “Mara and I just wanted to know if you were going to hang out with us tonight.”

When Beck doesn’t answer, he continues. “Mara was just curious because all three of us have the night off and I understand if you don’t want to…”

“Sure.”

Zed stops, blinking once, then twice. “...You serious?”

“Yeah. Why not?” He doesn’t have to see Tron today, and why can’t he have the night off?

“...I’ll tell Mara.” Zed turns back around, walking away, but then stops and turns back. “Uh...meet us outside when you’re ready.”

“Alright!” He smiles to reassure Zed, and he commits to walking across the street. He better change out of his uniform. Maybe he could sneak in a quick shower….oh, that would be nice!

He closes the door behind him as he passes through the den, which is nearly empty due to how late it actually was. No one says a word to another, and Beck continues up the stairs.

He’s on the second floor when the door nearest to the stairs opens with a creak. He pauses in his steps, watching as Linda stands in the doorway, a blanket wrapped over her form.

“Beck. Can I talk to you?”

_About what? Could be anything…_

“Uh...sure. What’s up?”

She gestures for him to follow before she turns and re-enters her room. He follows without hesitation.

“Do you want me to turn on the light?”

“If you want to.” Is her only reply. He turns on the lamp, and it casts a warm glow over the room. He sits down next to Linda on the bed, where they sit in silence.

“Beck, you need to be careful.” She says finally, looking up to him.

“What for?”

“Tesler...he said he was looking for you. He’s sent the whole city after you. If you’re not careful, you could be caught and….”

He hushes her softly, pulling her close. “Don’t worry. I’m lying low for now. When this blows over, I’ll go back.”

“And if it doesn’t?” She looks up to him from their embrace, eyes welling with tears.

“I...I’ll figure out something.” He assures her. “Don’t worry. I’ll be safe.”

She doesn’t say anything. Maybe she doesn’t believe him; she could almost always tell when he was lying.

He hugs her tight before letting go. He gets to his feet and turns off the lamp. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” She responds as she lies down, and turns with her back facing the light from the doorway. Beck gives a soft smile at that as he makes his way to the door, and softly closes it behind him. He starts up the stairs again, but falters as his thoughts catch up. Again, what would happen if this lasted more than a couple weeks? How would he avoid being turned in, _even if_ just on suspicion, for the reward?

Shaking his head, he continues up the stairs. He doesn’t know. Hopefully it won’t ever come to that.

In his room, he simply changes out of his uniform before he starts back downstairs. When he leaves the orphanage, Zed and Mara are waiting for him outside.

“So where are we going?” He calls as he catches up to them.

“The park?” Mara shrugs. “Should be open, since the curfew is lifted…”

He shrugs with a smile, his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Alright. Sounds good to me.”

The three travel close, exchanging conversation and the occasional laugh as they recount old memories and the ins and outs of their days.

However, when they reach the park, they look up to the large gate surrounding the park, no doors in sight.

“Has it…” Beck doesn’t pull his gaze away from the gate. “How long has it been like this?”

“I thought they would open it.” Mara murmurs. After a moment, she shakes her head, returning to the moment. “Don’t worry! We can do something else! We have all night, thanks to no curfew.”

“No curfew?” Beck finally looks to her, and rolls his eyes. “Please. Tesler’s troops have taken over everything.”

“Told you so.” Zed responds and Beck turns his back to the gate to look to Zed. “Been this way for a while now.”

A fleet goes above them, and Beck watches them as Zed continues.

“‘Course you’d know that, if you hung with us like you used to.”

Beck looks back to Zed as he finishes speaking, not reacting right away.

“ _Zed.”_ Mara warns, glancing between her friends.

“It’s okay, Mara.” Beck’s tone is light, but he doesn’t smile.

“Not that it matters.” Zed continues with a shrug. “Not much you could do about it anyways. It’s all that Renegade’s fault.”

He pauses at that. “Unless…” Beck leans back to avoid Zed getting directly in his face. “You are the Renegade.”

Beck’s worried look shifts into a smirk after a moment passes. “Very funny. You got me.”

“ _Please!”_ Mara catches their attention. “I don’t want to spend my night talking about the Renegade! I want to celebrate instead.”

The chopper catches his attention, and he watches its spotlight gleam on something else in the city, perhaps a ‘Renegade’ on the run. “Really? Doesn’t seem like there’s much to celebrate anymore.”

She drapes an arm over Beck’s shoulders with a hand on her hip. “How about the fact that we’re finally spending some free time together? Out on the town, with no curfew hanging over our heads, just like old times!”

At that, she gives him a playful push. Beck stumbles back into the fence, and starts when the shock causes him to scramble back to his friends on his instinct. He glances back at the fence as the shock settles. “Yeah,” He laughs dryly. “ _Exactly_ like old times.”

He notices the looks on his friends’ faces. He can’t keep complaining the whole night. They’re supposed to have _fun_.

“But Mara’s right. Come on, Zed.” He gestures to his friend to follow him.  “Let’s go have some fun.”

Mara is immediately on his heels, and he barely hears Zed call after Beck. “You were kidding about being the Renegade, right?”

Beck acts like he doesn’t hear Zed, who doesn’t repeat his question as he catches up. The three slow to a walk, letting Beck lead the way to wherever he wanted to go. He slows, though, as the club comes into sight. Occupation guards clump around the door, as others make arrests for suspicions.

“So what’s our…” Zed breaks off as Beck straightens, and continues into the club, walking in between the groups of soldiers.

Inside, even more guards crowd the dance floor as most citizens stand off to the side, glancing to the dance floor.

“This can’t be happening.” Beck mutters, squeezing in between the guards. “This was _our_ place!”

He’s more than relieved when they finally make it out the tight space in the crowd. So relieved, in fact, that he didn’t notice the guard until they forcefully ram into his shoulder. He stumbles with a grunt. He turns to see the guard doesn’t even glance back. Zed and Mara stop as well.

“Hey!” Beck calls after the guard.

They turn, hand immediately inching towards the weapon on their belt. “You got a problem?”

Zed grabs onto Beck’s shoulders, pulling him back from lunging at the guard. “No! No problem!” He begins pulling Beck back with more force. “We’re on our way out.”

“Don’t come back.” The guard calls as they leave.

“I won’t.” Beck takes a step forward, pulling out of Zed’s grip. Zed quickly regains control and pulls Beck back.

“Beck stop it! What are you doing?” He glances back to see the guards are out of earshot. “Trying to get us sent to the Games?”

Mara sighs, her shoulders drooping. “Well, so much for old times. I’m going home.”

“No! I don’t want to give up yet.”

_There’s gotta be something left! Anything honestly..._

“Beck, Mara’s right. It’s not the same anymore.”

His gaze wanders from Beck to over his shoulder. Beck turns to see the group of sentries entering the club, staffs in hand. Beck levels a glare and Zed pulls Mara back next to him as they pass the three by. He turns his head and his gaze follows the group to the bar.

“HEY!” He hears a familiar voice call, and the club goes silent. “What’s going on?”

Beck slowly approaches the corner of the club to see the sentries had pinned Hopper’s head to the bar. Pavel passes Beck without a second glance and Beck does all he can to resist to even look at him as he notices who is trailing behind the commander.

_Link?_

“Based on the unbiased testimony of this bold Argon partiot_” Link looks down with his arms crossed over his chest_ “you are hereby suspected of being the Renegade!”

The crowd gives scattered gasps, including from Beck himself.

_That doesn’t make any sense!_

“I knew it!” Bartik slams his fists on the bar, knocking over his drink. “That car could’ve been mine!”

The sentries cuff Hopper and pull him from the bar, who isn’t fighting, but is protesting loudly.

“Come on! This must be a mistake! I’m not the Renegade! I’m innocent! _I’m innocent_!”

“Yes, of course, exactly right.” Pavel mocks as he follows the guards and Link disappears into the crowd. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”

He laughs and at the exit, turns with his arms out. “Long live Clu!” Before he leaves as well.

The crowd is silent for a moment longer before it shakily returns to casual conversation as the trio of friends watch the door, trying to register what just happened.

“Why would Link accuse Hopper of being the Renegade?” Beck says finally.

“Hopper’s not the Renegade.” Zed supplies. “He’s a pain, but not _that big_ of a pain.”

“It’s _sick.”_ Mara whispers finally. “All this reward’s done is turn people against each other. It’s made a witch hunt.”

“I need to talk to Link to get to the bottom of this.” _As the Renegade._ He means. _Maybe that will fix a few things._

“Good idea.” Mara begins to follow Beck. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Beck turns back to them abruptly. “You stay here.”

“But_”

“ _Talk to Bartik_. He can’t truly believe his friend is the Renegade. He must know more.”   

“Uh…Bartik and I don’t really see eye to eye…” Zed starts. “Fist to eye maybe.”

_It’ll have to do._

He doesn’t hear what Mara has to say, and doesn’t stop when she calls after him. He needs to find Link, before this blows even more out of control.

* * *

 

The siren is going off again. What was once used an emergency called now plays at random points in the day or night, and it’s a good thing Gorn was going to sleep that night.

_N-N-Ni-inety mo-or-re Renegades to interrogate…_

No! Her drifting thoughts lost the memory. Closing her eyes, she tries again.

Science had always come easily to her, that was a fact that could be accepted by those in both Argon and Purgos. However, another secret came with her. How, when she was younger, she had a fascination with the brain, especially with the memory. How a power could dance from her fingertips and connected to that how sometimes people would her residence...and come out not even remembering their own name.

Of course there were rumors. There were always rumors. So of course people showed, asking for the _witch,_ the one who could change memories when someone was in the blink of an eye. And she, purely in the interests of business helped them, but gave the illusion that her work was pure science, and they never suspected the magic.

Well, most.

She loses concentration and bites back a frustrated sigh. She pauses in her work to pinch the bridge of her nose, to concentrate….

“Gorn, did I mention I was in a hurry? _I’m in a hurry!”_

Shaking her head again, she focused, closing her eyes before she speaks.

“I’m sure a wise program like yourself understands that such dangerous work requires great skill and patience.”

“Blah blah blah, don’t test me, Gorn!” Pavel snaps, and she opens her eyes again to look up to him. “You will be handsomely rewarded _if_ this works!”

He knew. At first, it was an occasional check up, a representative from the Occupation why she had so many customers come in and out in the span of mere minutes. He had been suspicious, like so many before him, but his curiosity expanded to where he hid in her office one night and saw everything. And so he knew. He dangles it over her head because if he told Tesler...she would be in prison, or dead. But not if she does want he wants when he comes around.

Setting her jaw, she closes her eyes, and returns to where she had last been. She holds tight to the memory, the audio echoing quietly. Now to concentrate on holding this one tight, and the one _she_ created, and it would have to lay over the original….

_Tesler, you’re pathetic! Come and get me._

And there it is. And he knows the moment she opens her eyes and turns off the screen playing the counterfeit memory in front of her.

“Delicious.” He utters near her ear, before standing straight again. “If Tesler wants a citizen to do my job, then so be it!”

* * *

 

“This...is the Renegade?”

Hopper is trembling from his spot, whimpering as he doesn’t even dare to look up to Tesler. Pavel looks down to him, then to Tesler as he stands.

“One of our own?” His voice grows slightly louder as he approaches.

“Tragic, isn’t it, sir?” Pavel looks back to Hopper, who looks up to the two with wide eyes. “Clearly he’s a malicious malcontent with only one purpose in mind...to see you _choke on your own iron fist._ ” Tesler’s fist audibly clench and Pavel straightens from his crooked form. “Speaking figuratively….sir.”

“This man who turned him in...this Lint_”

“It’s _Link_ , sir.”

“Right. Lint. You trust him?”

“I do. He’s a true hero of Argon. And I have to say, the overwhelming evidence speaks for itself.”

Hopper straightens in confusion. When Pavel had taken a copy of his memories, he figured it was for now. Then Tesler would know he’s innocent! Right?

Pavel pulls out a small screen and holds it out for Tesler while he bows. Tesler takes it and it activates in his hands.

_The door opens in front of him to the person kneeling on the ground, hands cuffed behind them. The hands push the person onto their back where they cut through the cuffs easily. The person scrambles to their feet._

“ _I’m free! Thank you!”_

_The person runs off and the view follows._

“ _Tesler, you’re pathetic.” Hopper’s voice says, and in real life, his eyes widen. “Come and get me.”_

_In the reflective glass of the door, the Renegade takes off his mask and__

“THAT’S NOT ME!”

Tesler turns off the screen and the look on his face makes Hopper whimper loudly. He scrambles as best as he can to Tesler’s feet, bowing close. “Please! I would never say anything like that! I-I don’t think you’re pathetic at all!”

“Stop your sniveling!” Tesler sets a foot on his shoulder, then pushes him. Hopper falls on his back a short distance away. He glances up after a long moment of recovering, not moving from his spot as Tesler approaches, his hands beginning to glow bright.

“I’ve spent far too many sleepless nights imagining this moment. To have it end like _this_! I expected a far more worthy adversary. But you’re nothing but a _coward_!”

Hopper squeezes his eyes shut and flinches away as Tesler’s fist strikes the ground next to his head. Cracks spread in the ground, and Hopper eventually opens his eyes as Tesler growls.

“You’re no Tron.”

He stands and turns his back to Hopper. “Now take him away.”

Tesler doesn’t look back. If he had, he would have seen the devious look thrown to Hopper by Pavel and the smirk on his commander’s face before he pulled ‘the Renegade’ to his feet and took him out of sight.

* * *

 

The car seems to purr as Link makes his way down the street. He hears the calls of his name as he passes slowly, and he grins.

He can’t believe it.

People actually know his name. They remember him.

_He’s cool._

He glances over the top of his sunglasses as he checks them in his rearview mirror. Laughing to himself, he readjusts the mirror.

_Yeah. He’s cool now!_

“Nice job catching the Renegade.”

He’s still watching the mirror when he lets go of it. He screams at the sight and sound of the intruder in his car as he steps on the gas. Beck manages to hold on tight as Link swerves onto a different road.

“Don’t hit me!” He begs. “It wasn’t my idea.” He glances back to the Renegade. “It was Pavel.”

_Pavel._

He should have known.

He crosses his arms. “And you believed him? You believed that Hopper was the Renegade?”

“Well…” Link glances down to the gun holstered at Beck’s waist, then back forward, shoulders still hunched in fear of being hit. “No. I _really_ wanted this car.”

_You and everyone else in the city._

“So you lied?”

“...Yeah.”

“You realize Hopper is set to be executed at the end of the day, right?”

“...”

Beck shifts his weight in the back to lean in closer to Link. “This isn’t a game, Link. He will die at the end of the day for something he didn’t do.”

Link’s jaw goes slack in horror, and Beck instantly feels guilty. He shouldn’t Link like this. He’s even younger than Beck, barely sixteen.

“Not unless we change that.”

“How do we do that?”

Beck glances up to one of the roads up ahead.

“Pull up there.”

Link obeys and stops the car. He looks back to the Renegade. “Is this apart of the plan?”

“No. But it’s better if we speak where it’s more likely to be private.”

“So what is the plan?”

Beck doesn’t speak for a long moment. When he does, he recounts the plan, watching for Link’s expression. Link doesn’t speak, but instead gets out of the car, and begins to pace. Sighing, Beck opens the back and climbs out after him.

“That’s...That’s…”

“I know.” Beck sits down on the hood. “But if we stick to it, it’ll work.”

“Okay...okay just tell me _one more time._ And I’ll get it right, I swear!”

Beck sighs, putting his head in his hands for a long moment. He finally sits straight again. “Alright, for the last time, the plan is this: you and the car will show up at Hopper’s execution, like they’ve asked you to.”

“But when I get there, you’ll pop up, club me over the head, and _reveal yourself_ as the true Renegade.”

“In front of everyone. Proving Hopper’s innocence.” Beck finishes. “Got it?”

Link hesitates. “...Can we talk about the clubbing-over-the-head part again?”

Beck puts his head in his hands, biting back another sigh.

“ _Citizens of Argon.”_

Beck looks up at the voice of Tesler and approaches the end of the cliff overhang he and Link were on.

“ _Your night is over!”_

“They’ve already started!” Beck voices, gesturing the large Coliseum and it’s screens. They were too late...they wouldn’t be able to save Hopper….

“ _The Renegade has been unmasked!”_

Three faces appear on the screens, Hopper and….no…

Beck’s heart stops at Zed and Mara’s names. It doesn’t matter if Link heard him or not, his friends... _how did they get tied into this_? He thought this would protect them! They were supposed to be safe and out of the way!

“ _And the order that Clu demands has been restored. We have won. Let the public executions begin.”_

The crowd roars to where Link hears it, but Beck hears nothing but a muted version that takes the backseat….

_Backseat...I got it!_

He runs to the car, and slips into the front seat to find Link had carelessly left the keys in the car. Quickly, he inserts them and turns on the ignition. He sees Link turn from where he had been watching the Coliseum towards the car, but he doesn’t care as he shifts into drive. The tires squeal as he makes a U-turn and zooms down the hill.

* * *

 

Mara feels the cords wrapped around her ankles pulling and she bites back a cry of pain while a grunt escapes.

“I’m innocent!” Hopper screams for what must have been the millionth time, not caring that the crowd doesn’t know or want to know what he is saying. She can hear Zed grunting in pain next to her.

The cords finally stop pulling when her body is slightly hovering over the ground. The three are chained together at the wrists, and she can see the two men out of the corner of her eyes. She can hear the bikes at the end of the arena revving to start.

The commander had done her best. After all, she was the one who brought them to confront Commander Pavel about his lie. But then Tesler arrived, and everything hit the fan. Even as they were being pulled away, she could hear the commander begging the general to change his decision.

 _They’re innocent, General. Pavel is_ lying….

“Sir, I beg you.” Paige whispers to Tesler from beside him, face full of conviction and desperation. “ _Please reconsider._ ”

“Nonsense!” Pavel calls from the other side of Tesler, before lowering his voice. “Clu will be so proud, General.”

“Silence! Not another word from either of you.” He faces the front. “I want to enjoy this!”

He raises his hand and Mara glances around wildly as everything suddenly powers down…

Then the spotlights flash back on and the crowd roars again.

“Goodbye... _Renegade!”_ Tesler raises his hand higher, then gives a thumbs down to the soldier leading the execution.

The tires on the bikes squeal as they begin to pull the cords. The pain returns and Mara feels her arms and legs seeming to fight each other for which way she would go. It’s as if her bones were threatening to snap. Being torn apart...she never thought in her entire life that was how she would die.

“Zed!” She calls biting back pain as tears well. Where was he? Where was Abel? _I want to go home!_

“It’s okay, Mara.” Zed calls. “Just...just close your eyes.”

She doesn’t close her eyes, but instead glances to him. If they die now, it seemed as if she could at least tell him so he could _know…_

“Zed, there’s something I need to say before it’s too late.”

“Okay...tell me.”

“You’ve always been a good friend to me, the best actually. But sometimes...I wish we…”

Why can’t she say it? Why can’t she say now when it matters to him?

“You...wish we’d what?”

Tires squeal and she looks up to see the Renegade. Why is there a gun in his hand...and why is it aimed…?

The shot breaks out and the cords at her ankles snap as she hits the ground. Two more ring out, and she hears another body hit the ground. The car skids to a stop and the Renegade leaps out, dagger in hand. The cord he cuts snaps and the third body hits the ground roughly.

“It’s him!” Mara cries out as three scramble to meet each other. “It’s the Renegade!”

The explosion makes her stumble, but Zed catches her. She looks up to see Commander Pavel reloading a large weapon in their direction.

A hand grabs her arm roughly and swings her to the opposite direction.

“Get to the car!” She hears a rough voice call and the Renegade turns back. “I’ll cover you.”

How he would, she wasn’t sure, but she doesn’t argue as Zed pulls her along to the red car in the distance. _The reward_ , she barely notes as she climbs in the front. The Renegade catches up, barely sitting down before he shifts into drive and slams on the gas. The tires kick up dust and another explosion barely misses them as they exit the arena. They can still hear the screaming of the crowd as they leave the Coliseum behind. Mara looks out to the scenery, trying to block out the bloodlusting noise...

“I think we lost them.” Mara opens her eyes again to see they are passing through a tunnel, and the Renegade glances back to them. “Everybody okay?”

She glances back to Zed and Hopper to see the latter open his eyes.

“I’m alive!” The relief is evident in his voice. “The Renegade saved me! He_wait.”

Logic catches up to him as relief leaves. He lunges forward, wrapping an arm around the Renegade’s neck, and he raises his fist high above the Renegade’s head. “Surrender Renegade!”

Mara and Zed glance to each other. They can’t see the Renegade’s expression behind his mask but he can’t seem to see where he’s going, as the car begins to slightly veer to the right.

“Stop the car.” Mara says finally.

The car stops abruptly and Mara pushes against the dash to stop her momentum.

“Zed.”

The blow knocks Hopper back as he loses grip on the Renegade, and Zed opens his door to let the other male fall out. He quickly closes the door again, and the car takes off.

“Like I said.” Zed comments as he sits back down with a shrug. “It’s the only way I can connect with these guys.”

Mara laughs out of both relief and amusement, cupping her own face as she tries to register all that’s just happened.

“Oh!” She turns to face the Renegade. “Thank you. You saved our lives.”

“Yeah.” Zed adds, not sounding anywhere as enthused as Mara. “Thanks, I guess...though this is sort of all your fault to begin with…”

“Zed, admit it. You’re enjoying yourself.”

“But_”

“But nothing. We just out ran a missile in a stolen car with _the Renegade_. When’s the last time we’ve had this much fun?”

“Yeah...I just wish Beck were here.”

The Renegade glances to them, but Mara doesn’t think much of it as she sighs.

“Beck...he would have loved this.”

The car slows to a stop at a street corner and the Renegade shifts into park.

“This is where we part.” He says as they get out. When they cross to the sidewalk, he continues. “Remember: Tron lives.”

And with that, he returns to drive and his tires squeal as he takes off down the street, leaving the two to watch him go.

When he disappears from sight, the two quietly start down the street.

“Hey Mara?” Zed speaks finally. “About what you said in the arena…”

“The arena…” She looks to the sky in thought. No. It could wait. She shrugs and looks back to him with a smile. “What did I say?”

“You said we…” He breaks off as he realizes she had sped up at the sight of the garage. “Never mind.”

* * *

 

The car was found mysteriously in the private garage for the mechanics. The outside of the car was covered in dust and other signs that at some point, the car had gone off road. But the keys were exactly where Link had left them in the first place.

That had been some hours ago, and Linda sits on Beck’s bed, waiting. She figured that when the car had returned that so would Beck, but no such luck when she had opened the door. What if he was still running...or what if he got caught…

_Tap tap tap_

Her head snaps to the source to see a masked face peeking in through the window. Gasping, Linda’s feet hit the floor and she rushes to the window. She grips the latches, and grunting, she pushes up the window. When Beck is able to, he helps push it up enough to where he can slip in. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he turns and closes the window behind him. Sighing, he pops off the mask before looking to Linda.

“How are Zed and Mara?”

“Abel brought Dr. Cole to check on them.” Linda replies quietly. “They seemed okay when they got home.”

Beck nods and goes to his closet, hiding his mask in the back. Sighing, he unzips his jacket and the white of the Renegade’s uniform is now visible. As he turns and flops on the bed next to Linda, she speaks again.  

“How did you get a hold of Link’s car?”

“Long story.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “Let’s just say I borrowed it when I found out Zed and Mara were…” he breaks off at that as his eyes open again and he frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He mutters. “They weren’t supposed to be in any danger by asking Bartik questions.”

“That’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

It’s so surreal, Beck realized, that he is talking about this to Linda, someone so much _younger_ than him and that she understood. That she wasn’t scared.

“I guess.”

“You did. You know them. What else could you have done?”

He doesn’t get to answer as she continues.

“Don’t blame yourself for that. What matters now is that they’re okay and that’s because of you.”

He doesn’t reply, but instead turns on his side to her.

“Thank you.” He says finally.

She smiles and gets off the bed. He sits up to watch her go.

“Good night.” He calls.

She stops at the door as he approaches. She says nothing for a long moment, then nods with a small smile. “Night.”

As she leaves, he watches her descend down the stairs. Once she’s gone, he closes the door and changes clothes. When he finishes, he flicks off the lights and lays down again, replaying his conversation with Tron as his eyes close and he slowly falls asleep.

“ _I thought you were taking time off.”_

“ _Easier said than done, I guess.”_

“ _...Maybe another time.”_


	12. Chapter Eleven- cum Daemonibus fieri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to A.R. Manolakas for the suggestion on the title for this chapter! Also, if you guys want to know, the title roughly means 'when the demons come', which I think is really clever.
> 
> Also, I advise being careful with this chapter. Due to the content (hate speech, hate-fueled violence, and gruesome deaths of multiple people), this story is now rated Mature. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Something's off today.

He could feel it the moment he had opened his eyes that morning. His frown already began at that point as he changed and took to searching for any sign of intrusion.

He returns to the main room, though, his frown deepening in confusion. There wasn't any sign of another person entering the hideout, not even Beck. He even beat the sun, so the only light visible is the faint city on the horizon through his window. Just like every other morning, he finds himself in the dark, watching over Argon as its inhabitants sleeps fitfully. With his and Beck's revolution, they'll sleep well again.

His muscles protest any initial movement with a grunt. _God, I'm getting old,_ he notes as he takes another step, and his breath burns. He'll need to go to the healing chamber soon, and remember to take the medication. But for now, he can be productive. He approaches the computer, and wakes it as he begins reviewing the files he had set aside the night before. If the rest of the information he needs to decode lays out as he plans, then this will be another easy mission for Beck, and more practice should they ever get even _half_ of Clu's attention...

The shrill beeping breaks his concentration, and his eyes follow the flashing tab at the corner of the screen. He clicks it, and it takes over the screen, and he scrolls through the information. It's from the naval guard on Argon's waters, sending in a soldier from the capital. It's on one of Clu's nicer ships, Tron notes, and yet he still feels his breath freeze within him when he reaches the name of its passenger.

_No. It can't be!_

He grips the edge of the table and his hand shakes as he reaches to click the name. It responds at the touch, and a grainy picture begins to form from pixels, sharpening until that unmistakable face is staring back at him and he can't help the gasp that escapes him. Memories burn through his mind and scars, and the hand that had reach to touch the screen clenches into a fist. How dare he _how dare he-?_

_He won't get away with what he did. Never again!_

“Dyson.” He finally growls, and his voice turns to a steely rage.

Despite the old warrior’s rage, the ship continues into the city otherwise unheeded. All Tron can do is watch through the enabled cameras as it heads to the center of the city. When the ship passes over Argon park, he finally turns away to enable Beck’s beacon.

The old general of Clu’s army would _pay._

* * *

 The insistent beeping wakes the teenager from his slumber. Groaning, he rolls over to smack his alarm clock on the nightstand. The noise persists, however, and as he slowly wakes, Beck remembers that he had unplugged his alarm clock three days previous.

This thought immediately prompts him to sit up and scramble in his search for the beacon. Tron needs him! But why so early?

He leans his head over the side of the bed. He snatches the beacon, implemented into a cheap watch, off the floor. He clicks the side button, which notifies Tron he received the beacon and is on the way. Sighing, he slips the watch on his wrist and stumbles out of bed to his closet. He slips on the uniform of the Renegade on first, followed then by pants, a shirt, a jacket, and socks and shoes. He stuffs his Renegade shoes, his mask, and his smaller weapons into a bag before slinging it over his shoulder. Not even bothering to check his reflection, he opens his door and hurries down the stairs. He’s surprised that he makes it down the stairs and through the den without someone calling for his attention. It was almost too easy…

He spoke too soon, he finds out quickly. He opens the front door, and from where he stands in front of the neighbor’s gate, Able makes direct eye contact with him. Instantly, he waves him over. “Beck! Why don’t you come over and help?”

He bites back a sigh as he steps off the porch steps and rounds corner to the fence. There, he can see the gates are open, and an old, light blue Volkswagen beetle is parked in the driveway. Able is watching him approach from the open trunk. When Beck is close enough, Able turns back to the trunk to pull out a box. “We have a new neighbor. Mr. Johnson moved out after the last…Renegade related incident.”

“Really?” That would make sense. The old man was quite contrary even before the arrival of the Occupation. Of course the near destruction of the garage and his home would warrant a good enough reason for him to move. “And someone already bought it?”

Able nods and passes the box to him. “An old friend of mine. Linda and Mara are inside helping her out.”

“Everything alright out here, Able?” The new voice catches the attention of both the boy and the man, who look to the woman on the porch. Her light, graying hair seems almost windblown and doesn’t even touch her shoulders. Her light blue cardigan brought out her eyes, which had the evidences of both mirth and trial. Right now, however, she is smiling softly as she approaches the car.

“Everything’s just fine.” Able says in a relaxed manner as he grabs another box. As she stops, he turns and gestures to Beck. “I know you’ve already met Mara and Linda, but I recruited one more kid to help us out. This is Beck. He works with Mara in the garage.”

The older woman holds out her hand, and Beck readjusts the box in his hold to take her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms…”

“Smith.” She shakes his hand, but her intense blue eyes seem to be picking him apart and analyzing every little thing. “Caroline Smith.”

Beck can’t help but feel as if something is crawling under his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. However, after a moment, she lets go of his hand and pulls his gaze away to Able, where her smile returns. “Why don’t you two bring those inside?” Able nods for the both of them, and she turns to lead them up the porch and through the open door.

The house is nearly bare, save for the large furniture pushed against the walls and the stacks of boxes all over. Immediately, Beck can spot Mara and Linda, who grin and wave when they see him.

“Just over here.” Ms. Smith pats a pile of boxes to signal the location. Beck and Able nod and set down their boxes, Beck much easier than his boss. She smiles at the both of them, before looking to the girls. “Thank you, all of you. I could not have moved all of this by myself.”

“It’s no problem, Caroline.” Able manages a smile as he rises to his feet. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” She nods to him.

“I have to ask, though,” he continues after a moment, “as much as I enjoy the surprise of an old friend, what brings you to Argon?”

She sighs and gives a small shrug. “Seemed like a nice place to settle down for retired life.”

At that time, a jet roars above the house. The deafening and sudden roar causes poor Ms. Smith to start with a fright, hand going to her heart. Nobody else moves more than to glance up to the ceiling.

“Yeah.” Mara says sarcastically, “What a relaxing place to settle down.”

Able sends her look, but Ms. Smith laughs over any reprimand Able was about to make. “I’m sure I can still find a way. After all, I did end up teaching for fifteen years. I think I’m prepared for whatever life throws at me now.”

“You were a teacher?” Able asks, and the children share a confused look. _Why wouldn’t Able know that? Weren’t they old friends?_

Ms. Smith nods. “I needed a change from the engineering contracts, and I enjoyed teaching. But the Occupation’s…” She glances up at the ceiling, as if she would be heard (and maybe she would), “…preferred methods of education left no room for me to continue teaching.”

“Would you be interested in teaching here?” At Ms. Smith’s confusion, Able continues: “Argon’s public schools were shut with the Occupation’s arrival, and I still want to ensure my kids learn how to read, write, and do arithmetic. However, I have so much on my plate I can’t do everything…”

“Of course.” Ms. Smith responds with a small smile. “I’d be glad to.”

Able sighs in relief. “Thank you. Would you like to go ahead and discuss the logistics?”

When she nods, he looks to Mara, Linda, and Beck. “Why don’t you all get ready for the day? And don’t forget your shifts Beck and Mara.”

“Yes sir.” Mara answers for the group before leading the group out. Beck closes the door behind him since he’s the last one out, but he pauses at the doorstep. What an…odd interaction.

“Beck?” He looks up to see Linda had called him, and that Mara was watching, too.

“I’m fine.” He says and lets go of the doorknob to follow them to the gate.

“You sure?” Mara asks as she closes the trunk to the Volkswagen.

He pauses for a moment, staring at the car, before looking to Mara. “Did you feel…weird when Ms. Smith looked at you? Like she was picking you apart when she first met you?”

Mara slowly shakes her head. “Not really…she seemed like a nice woman to me.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s just me. Probably overthinking things.”

“Maybe.” Mara shrugs, and takes Linda’s hand. “Are you going to the garage?”

“Not yet.” He says after a moment, turning his back to the house. “I need to do something really quick.”

She nods, beginning to walk away when she calls back: “Don’t forget about your shift later!”

“I won’t!” He responds, before hurrying the opposite direction down the sidewalk. He grips the shoulder of his bag tight as he walks fast and tries to push away the uneasy feeling. It was probably nothing, and he has other things to worry about, like the fact that Tron is waiting.

* * *

The General and his commanders watch as the large airship finally reaches the home of the Occupation’s Argon base. The majestic vessel is much larger than any other on the base, and as the soldiers ease it down, Pavel finally leans over to ask:

“ _Who is that_?” He doesn’t receive so much as a glance from the other two, so he demands, “And why don’t we have any of those ships?”

He shrinks back as General Tesler finally levels a glare at him, and he scrambles to backtrack. “Not that we need one.”

“ _We don’t_.” Is all Tesler says, before returning his attention to the vessel as it docks securely. The door opens, and the steps descend so that a masked, yet heavily decorated soldier can step down. They pause for a moment to remove their mask, and underneath is a pale, thin face. A face so unassuming, but with a glare and familiarity that any officer would easily recognize belongs to the Luminary’s right-hand man, who demands and receives the fear, distaste, and obedience of every soldier in the Occupation. Sure enough, Tesler narrows his eyes and barely bites back a sigh.

“Oh not him.” He mutters, and begins to approach as the soldier continues down the steps, “Not that vile, two-face phony…”

“Dyson!” His tone instantly switches to a friendly greeting as he makes it to the bottom of the steps. “What a wonderful surprise! To what do we owe this pleasure?”

For a moment, as Dyson passes by him, it seems that for the first time in years, the General was ignored.

“I think you know.” He says finally, coming to a stop. His back is to the General, and he barely bothers to glance back. “I’m here to _fire_ you, _condemn you to the Games._ ”

The General’s eyes widen in fear. Both commanders forget their impassiveness to tense and fearfully exchange a glance. If Tesler fell, then chances were they would too…

But then the second-in-command starts snickering. His official stature drops only momentarily as he indulges in the work of his joke. “Joking!” He quickly returns to business, and keeps walking, forcing the General to follow. “Just a customary review of our satellite ops. I doubt I’ll see anything to warrant _that_.” He shoots back as he passes the once-again-impassive commanders. It seems as if he will say anything more, but then he snaps his fingers and stops.

“Oh! There’s also the mention of the…” He turns to watch the General and his Commanders as he searches for a name. “…what’s his name… _Renegade_?”

Tesler tenses and shoots a furtive glance to Pavel and Paige before saying: “He’s nothing. A minor nuisance is all.”

“Odd.” Dyson ponders insincerely, “Because _Clu_ hears different.” He gives a light shrug. “Well, have to see for myself.”

And that is all he will say as he walks away.

Finally, Paige speaks, her comment dry as her gaze doesn’t waver from the back of Clu’s second-in-command: “I think I like him as much as I like the Renegade.”

Her comment goes unheard as Tesler turns around to his commanders. “I want you both glued to Dyson every moment he’s here.” He says in a low voice, before turning to glance at Dyson.

“Make sure his visit is brief…and _uneventful_.”

* * *

“Your target. Take a good look." 

Beck frowns as he heeds his mentor’s instructions, taking in the man. He seems so…unassuming, if it weren’t for the rows upon rows of medals he wears, and the hardened gaze he carries.

“I could have surveyed him myself.” Beck throws out to his mentor. Tron doesn’t respond, but Beck knows he’s listening. “You didn’t have to come out here.”

When Tron yet again doesn’t respond, he sets the binoculars down and looks to his mentor. “He must be pretty important.”

“All you need to know is that he’s Clu’s highest ranking soldier.” He turns to him finally. “And the _deadliest_.”

“Copy that.” Beck says softly as Tron turns back to ship, nearly blending in with the land in his black suit he wears for excursions. “So, what’s our plan?”

To give Tron credit, he looks to Beck one more time than usual as he says: “Dyson has access and has full intel on Clu. So, you’re going to capture him, bring him to the hideout,” he then turns back to his brooding as he says: “where I’ll extract it from him.”

The way Tron says ‘extract’ unsettles Beck. Also, there was a large flaw in the plan.

“W-wouldn’t it make more sense if I just steal Dyson’s access code? I-I mean, thanks to our last missions, we know each officer has an access code, so Dyson should have one. And if I bring him to the lair, he’ll see our operation, see you…we’d have to kill him…which is a bad thing.”

It unsettles the teenager that Tron doesn’t respond to any of this. Surely, he sees the flaws, too. They couldn’t just _kill_ Dyson.

“Right?” He asks after a pause.

“I have bigger plans for Dyson, and there’s a reason you don’t know the details.” Tron turns to Beck, fists clenched. “You just have to get him.” His gaze finally pierces into his apprentice, “Unless you can’t handle that.”

“It’s…not how I’d do it.” Beck resigns after a pause and rises to his feet. He hands Tron the binoculars. “But you’re Tron. I just wear the suit.”

Tron takes the binoculars wordlessly and returns to his brooding. As he turns to the light, Beck finally catches sight of-

“Your scar.” Tron stops at Beck’s shocked whisper. “You’ve been away for too long.”

  “Funny.” Tron doesn’t hold back on the bitter sarcasm. “I hadn’t noticed.” He doesn’t turn to his apprentice again, focusing on the monstrosity that had _ruined everything_ …the reason for his set jaw and tight grimace. In fact, there was a time when he would _smile…_

 _Like now. The smile holds is lighter,_ feels _lighter as he watches the first rays of the day peek through his window and stretch across his ceiling. Though he lives in the heart of the city, in the building where he works, all he hears is the quiet morning, and his beautiful wife sleeping beside him._

_Speaking of his wife…_

_He turns on his side to face her. Her eyes are still closed, blond hair draping over her shoulders and spreading out from where her head lay. His smile is still soft as he reaches out and moves a strand out of her face. At the gentle touch, her eyes slowly open, and a smile easily appears._

_“Mornin’.” She mumbles and yawns, covering her mouth with her hand._

_He smiles at that and kisses her forehead. “Good morning, dear. Sleep well?”_

_Yori nods and snuggles in against his chest, siphoning the warmth. “You’re warm, and it’s too cold to be decently awake.”_

_He chuckles at that and wraps her up in his arms. “Better?”_

_“Much.” She hums. This makes him smile again, and he leans forward to kiss her. She sleepily meets the peck on the lips, before resituating and leaving a kiss on his collarbone._

_They return to a comfortable silence. Tron holds his wife close and returns his attention to the growing rays on the ceiling._

_“I think I’m gonna stay late at work today.” Yori mumbles finally. “I need to get that contract for Jess done today.”_

_“Alright.” He says calmly, still watching the light._

_“What time do you have to go in today?”_

_He shrugs. “I’m only on call right now, so not for a while. I won’t even have to get out of bed until you go to work.” He looks down and grins cheekily as he catches her playful pout. However, both fade as his phone begins to buzz and ring on his bedside table._

_“Spoke too soon.” Yori comments, and Tron groans as he lets go of her and rolls over. He grabs his phone and puts it to his ear._

_“Dyson?”_

_He listens quietly as his right-hand man explains the situation. His smile completely disappears into something more solemn._

_“Alright. I’m on my way.” He hangs up, and sigh as he pushes himself out of bed._

_“What’d he say?” Yori asks, sitting up and reaching for her robe._

_Tron crosses to the closet and pulls out his uniform. “Tensions are rising in the east district. People aren’t taking too kind to their new ISO neighbors, so I need to go settle that.”_

_She nods, and crosses to where he’s already pulled on his pants and is slipping on his uniform shirt. She passes him his work belt. “I’ll get your shirt.”_

_He nods, and as she works, she asks: “How bad do you think it’ll be down there?”_

_“Hopefully not too bad. It’s still early, so I think the situation can be remedied peacefully.”_

_She nods, “Okay. And if it doesn’t, talk to Flynn and Clu. Surely, they could help you ease the tensions. Maybe you could even get an audience with Ophelia and the ISO officers to see if you can work together.”_

_“I think I’ll try that. Anything to make this transition easier.”_

_She nods again, finishing his buttons. She steps back and lets him grab his socks and work boots. After those are on, she stands on her tip toes and pecks him on the lips. “Stay safe.”_

_“I will.” He promises. “Have a good day at work. I’ll make dinner when I get home so you can finish that contract.”_

_She nods, and both may appear more solemn, but Tron still feels the warmth of his wife’s kiss on his lips as he closes their apartment door behind him._

* * *

  _Tron finds he beats Dyson to his office, so he takes a moment to enjoy the view. The sun is barely rising, casting a glow over the city as the artificial lights are dimming to give way to the natural. It was…beautiful, and made Tron wish he had more time to take it in. But there is no time: he can already hear the footsteps of his second-in-command._

_“Just once, Dyson, I wish you would call me when you don’t have bad news.”_

_“But then I wouldn’t be doing my job.” Dyson comes to a stop next to him, smiling faintly._

_Tron turns his attention from the skyline and looks to Dyson before walking to his desk. “Fill me in.”_

_Dyson passes him the file, and Tron takes it reading it over. His frown grows as he closes the file and sets it down before heading to the door, Dyson on his heels. “I should have guessed.” He says as he presses the button for the elevator and the door opens. He steps inside with Dyson by his side, “Another disturbance in the ISO district.”_

_Dyson sighs, “Ever since those_ ISO’s _showed up, it’s been one incident after the next.”_

_“You’re talking like we’ve never had security problems before.” The elevator opens, and Tron heads out towards the wall of security camera, specifically those in the East district. He can see the intricate clothing and marks of the ISOs in close up, and the growing crowd around the natives to the land. Even if they were the natives, every other citizen felt as if they were being stolen from._

_“But…it’s different with them.” Dyson argues. “Nobody really knows_ who _these ISOs are, or what they’re capable of. They’ve got the whole city on edge.”_

_“Then it’s time to take the edge off.” Tron resolves. He watches the cameras for one more moment, before walking away. “Assemble our team.”_

_Minutes later, the whole team is packed into the elevator down the tower. He can hear the three shifting and feel Dyson glancing to him as he stares out over the city. This was his home, his world. It’s still so remarkable that they had accomplished so much. But they weren’t finished yet. There wasn’t peace._

_“Apparently the locals don’t like ISOs moving into their neighborhood.” He says as he turns to the team. “So we’re going to show them there’s room for everyone.”_

_“Slap a few wrists, send a few people home…” One member chuckles as he rests his hands on his hips. “All in a day’s work.”_

_“How would you know, Reeve?” His blond-haired teammate, Rhett, snarks back. “You’ve never worked a day in your life.” The third member, Gwendolyn, laughs at the comment._

_Tron ignores it as they settle on the first floor and the doors open. He steps out and his team follows him to the exit._

_“I want the crowd dispersed peacefully. Under no circumstances are you to draw your weapons. Understood?”_

_The team stops. “You want us to go in_ unarmed _?” Gwendolyn asks._

 _“For_ ISOs _?” Reeve interjects._

_“What should we stop them up with?” Rhett quips, “A group hug?”_

_“In case you had something in your ears, that was an order.” Dyson says as Tron stops, and so does he. He turns on the team. “Now get moving! On the double!”_

_The three quickly straighten and salute, before hurrying to their squad cars. Only after they have sped off does Tron slump his shoulders, sigh, and look to Dyson. “Thanks.”_

_Dyson smiles, and puts a hand on Tron’s shoulder. “Anytime, old friend.”_

_Tron nods, and the two head to their own vehicle, Tron climbing into the driver’s seat. He flicks on the lights and speeds off after his team. The roads are practically empty, and Tron is able to pass his team in order to lead the way, gaze serious and burning._

* * *

  _A large crowd has gathered by the time they make it to the East district._

_“Freaks!” Someone in the crowd calls to the small group of ISOs. “Go back to the hole you crawled out of! We don’t want your dirt here!”_

_The leader of the small group of ISOs seems hurt by this interjection. “We lived here first! This is our home, too!”_

_That’s all Tron can hear, as the crowd is forced away by the squad cars pushing in between the two groups. As soon as they park, everyone climbs out in their riot gear. Tron leaves off his helmet, standing in front of the crowd so they can see him clearly. His presence seems to have an effect; people quiet down as whispers of ‘_ it’s Tron’ _and ‘_ it’s him’ _race through._

 _“Look at yourselves!” He calls over the crowd. “Flynn intended this land for_ all of us _! To be shared, freely! Don’t dishonor his vision through_ violence _!”_

_The crowd seems to be hanging to every word. People are looking down or away, lowering their stones and weapons, and beginning to disperse. Behind him, the ISOs are relaxing. Dyson comes forward and puts a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps there wouldn’t be a need for force after all._

_And then, just as Tron turns to look at Dyson, he hears a shot ring. He can barely step back as the bullet passes between the two officers, and hits someone in the crowd. A teen clutches at his chest with a strangled cry, before collapsing to the ground._

_People scream and gasp in fright. Tron turns to the ISOs, searching for a guilty party. He thinks he can spot someone running through the horrified faces of the ISOs but he can’t be sure-_

_“ISOS!” Someone screams suddenly, and Tron is forced to turn back to see a man pick up his knife again. People follow his lead, retrieving their stones and weapons, and charging forward, trampling the body of the teen. “IT WAS THEM!”_

_“No! No!” Tron protests, and hurriedly pulls up shield, abandoning his helmet. People are already pushing through, so he hurries to force them back with his shield. His team hurries to follow his lead, but Gwendolyn knocked down by the crowd, barely able to protect herself from being trampled._

_“Kill them!” The man calls, before wrenching the shield from Reeve’s grip. As it gets lost in the crowd, Reeve pulls out his baton._

_“Stay back!” Rhett calls, pulling out his own weapon. “Get back!”_

_“No!” Dyson calls. At some point, he had lost his riot helmet, and he uses his shield to push a rioter back. “Tron said no weapons!” He barely dodges a rock chucked in his direction._

_As Tron pushes another rioter back, he hears a second gunshot, this time followed by a feminine scream. He whips around to see a woman collapse and get lost in the riot, and the man with the knife plunge it into the leader of the ISO settlement’s chest. Tron feels his heart drop to his gut. They’re losing!_

_Dyson pulls that man away from the body of the ISO and uses his shield to force him back. It’s obvious he’s getting tired. Combine that, the loss of their team in the riot, and their impending loss, all it takes is for Dyson to lose his balance and fall for Tron to call: “Dyson! Fall back!”_

_He isn’t sure if Dyson hears him as he gets back to his feet. A third, final gunshot rings, and Tron can only turn fast enough to see Dyson’s head snap back as if forced by unseen hands._

_“Dyson!”_

_Dyson collapses, and Tron pushes his way through the crowd to kneel over his teammate. One of Dyson’s eyes is hidden by all the blood, and the other is closing as he loses consciousness. Tron drops his shield and cradles his head._

_“Dyson…”_

The memory leaves Tron’s frown further set than before. He brings the binoculars to his gaze, looking to the two commanders greeting Dyson, before focusing on the man himself.

“Welcome to Argon…” he spits the next words bitterly, “ _…old friend._ ”

* * *

“Let’s go again.”

“Again?” Beck protests to that from inside the simulation room. “But we’ve done this simulation four times!”

“That’s not enough.” Tron barely looks to Beck as he configures another bomb to appear in Beck’s hand. “Again!”

“Yes sir.” Beck quips as he activates the bomb.

“I can hear you!” This makes Beck grow serious as he grabs his mask. “Focus.”

Beck nods and pulls on his mask. Tron moves the graph of Beck’s vitals to the side in order to create four soldiers for the simulation. Within moments of their creation, the four charge at the Renegade. The Renegade throws down the bomb, encasing the room in smoke. When the smoke disappears moments later, all four guards have been defeated.

Rendering Dyson level. The voice for the system calls, Tron barely paying attention as the familiar face, though blank of expression, is formed. Calibrating for maximum difficulty. 

Tron barely remembers the simulation of Dyson latching on his protective helmet over his unscarred face. In fact, unscarred is what catches him yet again.

_He’s in the white hospital corridor again. He can’t stop pacing until he hears someone running down the hall. He turns, instantly reaching for his taser, but stops when Yori slows to a stop, breathing hard, her uniform rumpled and hair flying out of the bun she had it in. He withdraws his grip from the weapon as she closes the distance between them and cups his face. “Are you okay?”_

_“Fine.” He says softly._

_“Oh thank god.” She murmurs, and then embraces him tight. After a moment, he wraps his arms around her, holding her close. She takes solace in his hold, silent for the longest time._

_“What about Dyson?” She asks finally._

_Tron sighs and looks to the observation window. His second-in-command is still asleep, but there’s a patch over his right eye._

_“We’re lucky the bullet didn’t kill him, or ruin any of his brain functions.” He says finally. “But his eye…”_

_She looks to Dyson, grip slackening on Tron. She sighs after a moment, eyes sad. “Nothing’s going to be the same. Not after this.”_

_Then, Tron couldn’t be sure._ Now, Tron couldn’t help but be angry that she was so _right_!

The shattering of glass catches his attention again. He looks back to the simulation  to find Beck had disarmed the simulation and bashed at his face with the dagger’s hilt. The glass had shattered under the force, and Dyson fell back to the ground. Panting, Beck sheathed the dagger, not even reaching for the gun at his side.

“FINISH HIM!”

Tron’s thundering voice makes Beck jump, hand going to the gun. However, he hesitates to draw it, staring into Dyson’s blank eyes, staring straight above…

* * *

 The real Dyson’s gaze is nowhere near as blank. He scans each building as they soar above it.

“What a quaint little burg.” He comments finally. Neither Commander Paige or Pavel respond; but at least Dyson can credit to Paige that she is keeping their path steady.

When he grows bored of the skyline, he turns away. “I wonder why Tesler’s having so much trouble getting it in line.”

Nobody speaks until Dyson is gone. Then, Pavel hums.

“Seems like Tesler’s on shaky ground. You don’t think Clu’s considering demoting him?” He turns explicitly to Paige, leaning over her shoulder to search for a reaction. When she doesn’t even blink or glance in his direction, he steps away. “Nah me neither.” He paces to her other side. “Of course, anything goes when you’re at the top! Don’t you find politics _fascinating?”_

“ _Nothing_ you say is fascinating.”

“Don’t be coy, you’re ambitious, too.” He leans closer. “Think about how far up the ladder we could climb if we had each other’s backs. Can you imagine what you and I could do… _together_?”

Finally, Paige rolls her eyes. “I can, and it makes me sick.”

Before she finishes speaking, she pulls on the brake abruptly. The air vessel stops, and the impact throws Pavel forward with the impact. He slams into the glass and collapses back. Paige watches him with a small smirk.

“Oops.” She snarks, before returning to driving as if nothing happened.

* * *

 Below Paige and Pavel, Dyson is watching the city pass below him. He is truly glaring, this time, not examining. This…Renegade, the one claiming to be a dead man alive again, was in this out-skirting city. It reminds him of another time when he had traveled to the coast, but on the other side of the country, but the dead man truly alive, and he was _imperfect…_

 _“ISOs.” He growls. The sea air should be calming, but no one is relaxed. Not even Tron. He knows his boss, his old friend. He can pass off a calm façade well, but the even stiller silence and the subtle tension in his shoulders gives him away to Dyson. Now, however, he isn’t focused on that, but on the throng of_ ISOs _below them. Many had traveled this way, infecting the path, spreading and spreading. “Like a disease that keeps spreading.”_

_“Dyson, stay on mission.” Dyson finally looks to Tron at his order. Surprisingly now, the leader’s façade is cracking just enough to show a troubled gaze. “I’m just here to work with Flynn. I need you to keep this area safe.”_

_Things were getting worse, and Tron hadn’t missed it. The riots were getting more and more like that fateful day so long ago, to the point where Ophelia’s guards grew agitated by his mere presence, so he had only moments with the ISO leader. Not even enough time to discuss a plan of action. Yori was right._

_He needs to talk to Flynn._

_Surely the supreme being of this world who created everything and nearly everyone (minus Yori, the ISOs, and Tron himself) would have the power to fix this. And perhaps he could force Clu to listen, too, make them all sit down together and create a plan. After all, he had already tried with Ophelia, and he could not get Clu to truly listen to his complaints about people who lost in the Games being killed. The Games weren’t supposed to be like that! They were supposed to be merely a game, not a fight to the death, like in the Old World that Flynn had brought him from…_

_He’s growing distracted. He’s brought back to the present by Dyson._

_“Look at them.” Tron listens, and looks to the ISOs on the shore. Some are looking to the sky, waiting for Flynn’s arrival to part the stormy clouds to shed his godly light. Others, however, were looking to the troubled seas, and Tron could faintly understand why. Water was the ISO’s supreme being. They believed their first ancestors came from the crystal waters of the lake called Seneca near the all-ISO settlement Arija City. Many of their ceremonies surrounded this lake and they believed the water could heal their people from any sickness or ailment, but they also searched for signs in any body of water. Obviously, the dangerous waves of the sea can mean nothing good._

_“I-it’s not right! They come into our towns, stealing what’s rightfully ours, forcing their_ savage _beliefs on us. These lazy, barbaric_”_

_“Dyson!” Tron lays a solemn gaze on him. “We don’t know who shot first that day.”_

_“I do.” Dyson says thoughtfully, tracing the scarring that took his eye. “_ Them. _”_

_The rumbling noise catches the attention of both officers. They return their attention to see the crowd slowly parting, heads turning. The swath of gold is a bike that rumbles and a masked rider impatiently rolling through the crowd. The bike comes to a stop in front of the crowd, right where the dock begins. There, the rider disembarks and parks the bike, turning off the engine. They spare a glance back, which turns into a long look, before they turn away and approach the officer’s on the deck._

_“Clu.” Tron can tell who it is, even with his face covered and the change in design. The gold trimmings on his outfit was new._

_“I see Flynn’s on time.” Clu passes by him, voice altered by the helmet. He doesn’t turn to Tron or Dyson, but rather faces the sea. He removes his helmet, giving way to the nearly identical features Clu holds to his creator. He tisks, “As usual.”_

_The dark clouds above them open, and a bright light shines down. Everyone looks up, and Tron knows._

_“There he is now.” Tron and Clu approach the very edge of the dock, Dyson falling behind. A portal of light beams down and from it steps the Creator._

_“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He comments with a grin as his leather jacket and unruly hair catch in the breeze._

_“We are…” Flynn starts, passing by his Constructer, and his Guard, “…on the eve of something big. And the key…” He stops at the edge of the dock, overlooking those watching. “The key is the ISOs.”_

_“Yes. ISOs.” Right, here he goes. Tron clears his throat. “There’s been…more unrest.”_

_“To uh, put it mildly.” Clu interjects before Tron can say another word. And like that, his audience with the Creator has been lost._

_“Now Clu_” Flynn starts, turning to his first creation._

_“Flynn!” The Creator turns at his name, and Dyson resists the urge to step back. “I, um…I’m one of your officers.”_

_“Dyson,” Flynn smiles, and approaches, “I know.” He holds his hands out, perhaps for a greeting hug, but stops at Dyson’s words._

_“I want you to do something about those ISOs. They_ pervert _our nation, and they need to be erased from it.” Flynn’s brow furrows in concern at that, so Tron steps in._

_“You should know Dyson sustained that injury in the line of duty.” Both Flynn and Clu look to him, completely synchronized, before returning to Dyson. Both gazes take in everything concerning the officer, including his scar and the burning fury his one eye shares._

_“I understand your need for justice.” Flynn says finally, approaching Dyson and laying a hand on his shoulder. “But ISOs…have just as much a right to be here as anyone. They’ve lived here for ages. This land created them. Not me.”_

_Dyson finally looks up to him, no emotion in his eyes. No one is sure whether the Creator misinterpreted the response or saw it as a victory when he chuckles with a smile and turns away._

_“Now,” He says to the other two, “who’s ready to alter the fabric of existence as we know it?”_

_Clu glances back once to Dyson, but Tron does not, already caught up in Flynn’s antics. And Dyson’s gaze burns into the three as they walk away._

* * *

 

As Dyson lands in the square below, Tron watches through the secret cameras Beck had implanted. It has become almost obsessive in nature, tracking Dyson’s every move, plotting each and every way he- well, Beck- could swoop in and snatch Clu’s second-in-command. 

So _why_ hasn’t he done it yet?!

He only finds his frustration growing. This hideout, this path he’s taking for Beck, it only makes him powerless! He hates being powerless!

_One of the last times he felt powerless, he went to the bar after his shift ended. Yori knew he wouldn’t be home anytime soon. And while he felt horrible not being with her while she wasn’t feeling well, she knew he couldn’t focus at home. Not with everything happening now. So she sent him off._

_‘I know you can solve it’, she had just told him that this morning, ‘I know you can figure out why these…rogues are trying to bomb the ISO districts.’_

_And, well, he knew why. But when he had managed to go undercover, they talked of some bigger mission. And he didn’t know what it could be._

_So, he went to drink._

_“This isn’t what we were meant for, Shaddox.” He says to the bartender as he nurses a drink._

_“You’re right, Tron. It isn’t.” Shaddox, an old friend of his says as he cleans a glass. Then, he looks up to him. “What did you find? Evidence?”_

_“You could say that. It was a_ bomb _. The Black Guard have been planting them in the ISO outposts. They weren’t rogues, Shaddox. They were an experienced team. And I can’t believe they could operate without Clu’s knowledge.”_

_And like that, Shaddox understands. That’s one thing Tron likes about him; he doesn’t need any more to understand what Tron is thinking._

_“So what are you going to do? Clu_ is _the government. Without him, everything would fall apart.”_

_“But if I do nothing, the ISOs will fall.” He murmurs, and his brow furrows. “Could he become a monster?”_

_“Clu is cast in the Creator’s image. Maybe too much so. Now He’s making the decisions to match. We both know Flynn is the only true authority here. But Clu may not let that stop him.”_

_Tron lowers his face, leaning closer. Shaddox meets him as he says lowly, “The bombings are just a piece of a bigger puzzle. Do you know what Clu has planned?”_

_Shaddox sighs, and straightens, putting the dry glass away. “No. But I know what I’d think. Why allow there to be more and more ISOs? What would Flynn say? ‘Nip the problem in the bud.’”_

_It clicks, and Tron slides his unfinished drink over before paying his tab. “Maybe I should check Clu’s HQ again.” He could have missed something…_

* * *

_Getting into Clu’s headquarters is almost too easy. The guards are simple enough to…permanently disable. Inside, the building is dark and eerily empty.  
_

_“What are you planning…?” He mutters and urges the nearest computer awake. It almost seems too easy when the screen wakes to shows the coordinates of the bomb._

_“This was the bomb I stopped.” He mutters as he scrolls the through the map. “But then what are these other markings?” One in particular catches his eye, and he clicks on it. His eyes widen at the coordinates listed._

_“Seneca?”_

* * *

_“Tron.” The Creator greets, not even looking up from the bike he’s modifying. “You my new escort?"  
_

_“Flynn.” He barely returns the greeting before launching into his news, “I think_ Clu’s _guardsmen are the ones planting explosives in the ISO cities.”_

_This stops Flynn in his tracks. “On whose orders?”_

_He hesitates. There is so much evidence pointing to Clu himself…but his Creator won’t accept anything less than definite._

_“I don’t know. It could be a rogue element, but that seems highly unlikely. But that’s not all. They have something planned for Seneca, near Arija.”_

_Flynn rises, and turns to him, face stormy. “We need to find them.”_

_“I don’t think that’s a good idea to put you in harm’s way. Maybe I should…”_

_“_ Now. _” Tron’s surprised at the authority in Flynn’s voice. It’s rare for him to use that tone anymore. “I know Clu is frustrated, but he’s still_ me _. I know he’ll do what’s right. And I’m not going to lose this world, too.”_

_Tron goes quiet at that final comment, before he nods. “Very well. I’ll assemble my team.”_

_“Quickly.” Flynn urges, and Tron nods before hurrying off, the Creator on his heels._

* * *

_“GO!” Tron calls, and the first rogue guard is killed within moments. Their body crumples to the sand, and Reeve shoots another. Tron charges at the next one, while Dyson stays back to defend the Creator. Even with the team, Tron can tell they’re being overwhelmed. There’s so many…  
_

_He roars as he swings out at another rogue, but before he can strike, a bullet creates a hole in their head. They crumple, and Tron whips around to see a familiar masked man lower his gun._

_“Clu! What are…?”_

_“Wipe them out, men.” He orders his soldiers. “Those maverick guardsmen cannot be allowed to continue.” His soldiers obey, and within moments, the rogues lay dead on the shore._

_“Clu.” Clu mocks, “What have you_ done _?”_

_Tron feels his anger boiling over. “You think it’s that easy? Set up your own men and wipe them out?”_

_Clu approaches him. Flynn passes them to Seneca, and Dyson strays back close to Tron and Clu._

_“This won’t work, Clu.” Tron grits out._

_“It already has, Tron.” Clu closes in on him. “You are so shortsighted. It_ has _to be this way. The terrorists are defeated. Who can argue with that?”_

 _Before Tron can respond, Clu cuts over him. “I have acted out of_ love, _Tron. I have acted because I_ care _. I have been tasked with protecting all citizens, even the ISOs. I am protecting_ us, and them _, from themselves. I will protect them, but I won’t let them tear us apart.”_

_Tron can’t believe what he’s hearing._

_“You haven’t saved anyone!” He bursts out. “You’ve just created your own villains and wiped them out. That_ isn’t _a victory!_

 _They could have taken care of themselves!” Despite all his efforts to protect them himself, but this was different. “All you’ve done is forced the issue until something gave out. You pushed it until it_ broke _!”_

 _“Can you hear yourself?” Clu steps in even closer, but Tron won’t back down. “You sound like one of_ them _, Tron. Is that what you want said about you when you’re gone?”_

 _The phrase sinks in, and he can’t help his outburst. “Are you_ threatening _me?!”_

_“ENOUGH!” The roar of the Creator catches everyone’s attention to find him standing knee-deep in Seneca. The water seems murky, which is unsettling for the usually pristine and clear water._

_“What’s going on?” Tron asks, anger nearly forgotten._

_“He can see it now.” Clu is smirking. “He can see the_ truth _.”_

_“What did they do?” Tron asks himself in horror._

_“They’re trying to destroy Seneca.” Flynn says finally. “They want to kill the place where ideas are born. They didn’t know any better, so they tried to kill it.” Flynn wades over to shore and pushes aside a large rock to show the capsule forced into the ground._

_“They already did it. Long before we arrived.” The Creator’s face falls.  “They poisoned Seneca.” He sticks his hands in the water, and when they come back out, sludge drips from them. “It’s a_ virus _.”_

_“’Fight fire with fire’, Tron.” Clu says. Tron delegates to ignore him and instead approaches the capsule._

_“Do we have any idea how long this has been implanted?” He asks Flynn. Flynn looks up to him, and frowns._

_“I can’t be sure.” He admits and approaches the capsule as if it’ll reach out and poison him, too.  Tron kneels beside it and searches for any sign. He looks up to Clu, and the smirk on his face…oh god no…_

_Before Tron even fully recognizes it, he’s on his feet again, and running._

_“Tron!” He hears Flynn call after him, and the sound of many trying to keep up with him. He can’t slow down! This capsule has been planted for weeks at the least, and ISOs use Seneca for everything…_

_He can only pray he’s not too late._

**(AN: Usually don’t insert these anymore, but this part is extremely heavy in content matter [lots of death of basically any age group] and may get kind of graphic. Please read at your discretion, and feel free to skip it if you are uncomfortable in even the slightest)**

_But he knows, when he hears the wails and screams, that he’s too late._

_The stench of death hits his nose the moment he enters the city. He turns to look down the main street of Arija, only to see bodies scattered throughout the street. Some are convulsing, others have gone disturbingly still, and others are clinging to the dead, sobbing and wailing. Tron can’t stop his jaw from dropping in horror as he spots a woman crouched against the wall, screaming as she holds a still newborn._

_His heart is clenching on himself, and so he runs to the nearest convulsing ISO, going through the steps he remembers for a seizure and prays it works this time. He turns the elderly man on his side gently, but it seems this is a battle the old man is already. Tron puts two fingers to his neck, and his heart sinks when he finds no pulse._

_“No…”_

_Someone grabs his arms, and he tenses as he looks to his intruders. When he sees the ISO guard, he doesn’t fight, and lets them force him to his knees._

_“Ophelia.” He says finally, looking to her feet. He’s afraid of what he may see from the wise leader of the ISOs if he looks up. “I am_ so sorry _this is happening.”_

 _“Did you have any part in this?” Her voice is struggling to remain level, but shakes with her anger. “Did you have any part in_ poisoning my people _?”_

_He shakes his head, and finally chances looking her in her stormy eyes. “No. No, I would never! I came here as soon as I realized Seneca had been poisoned.”_

_“Do you know who did it?”_

_Slowly, he nods. “I think I do.”_

_“Who?” She demands. Her people deserve justice. He opens his mouth to answer._

_“Tron!” The four locked in conversation are broken from it at the call of the Creator. They all turn to see Flynn slow to a stop, followed by Clu and Tron’s team. Flynn gasps in horror._

_“My god…” He mutters. At Ophelia’s nod, the guards let go of Tron, and the warrior rises to join Flynn’s side. Ophelia approaches Flynn, and he looks to her, tears in his eyes. “I am_ so sorry. _”_

_Ophelia says nothing. Her eyes are cloudy, and she cannot look at Flynn long. “It’s not your fault.”_

_“I’ll make this right.” Flynn doesn’t look away, “I promise to find a way to make it right.”_

_“Is there anything we can do?” Tron asks when Ophelia doesn’t respond. She looks to him. “Can we help you with moving the deceased?”_

_“Please.” Is all she says. Tron looks to his team and gestures them forward. This time, Dyson glances back, and Clu is the one glaring after before grudgingly following._

* * *

_It’s hours later when he finally stumbles to the door of his apartment. Greif and exhaustion sit heavy in his bones, but he can find no peaceful path to rest. He sighs, shoulders drooped now that he’s alone, and pulls out his key to unlock the door.  
_

_Yori is sitting at the desk in their den, invested in her work. The lock clicks, and she smiles. She grabs the envelope off the desk and rises as the door opens. “I’m so glad you’re home! I have great news…”_

_She breaks off, though, at Tron’s expression as he stands in the doorway. Her smile fades as she sets the envelope down on a side table and approaches her husband. She takes his hand, and he barely responds as she leads him out of the doorway so she can close and lock the door. She leads him to the couch, where he sinks down. After a moment, she follows._

_“Love?” She asks softly, still holding his hand. He seems to finally realize that fact and squeezes her hand gently. “What happened?”_

_He withdraws his hand to hold his head and let his fingers tangle in his hair. “You were right.” He says finally, voice hoarse. “I did solve it. And part of me wishes I hadn’t.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Someone…I believe on Clu’s orders, poisioned Seneca, the lake the ISOs used for everything. It must have been at least a few weeks that it had been poisoned. God, all those ISOs…gone.”_

_She doesn’t speak immediately, but her hand goes to his back. She waits until he relaxes again after the touch before beginning to rub giant gentle circles. After a long moment, she finally speaks, softer now._

_“This isn’t your fault, Tron. And I know you think it is.” He sighs and hides his face, so her strokes stop. “Love. Look at me.”_

_He finally does look at her. She watches him with soft eyes and cups his cheek gently._

_“You did everything you could to prevent that from happening. But, Love, you hands have been so full trying to balance everything, all of this, and you can’t catch everything. You can’t blame this on yourself. You couldn’t have known.”_

_His breath catches, and he pulls her close. She grunts but accepts the embrace as he hides his face in her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him._

_“The most we can do now is try to help them recover. Do what we can to fix this.”_

_He doesn’t answer. She looks to him, “Tron?”_

_“It was awful.” He says finally, staring at the wall past her shoulder. “ISOs were dropping, dying where they had been standing. Many were convulsing, laying in their own sick, and the cries of the mothers holding their dead children…oh, their cries Yori…” Her grip on him tightens, but he doesn’t look to her. “What’s happened to us? To this world we helped to create? How did we let it become this way?”_

_“I don’t know.” She says softly._

_“It’s not safe anymore. I fear it’s only going to get worse.” She says nothing, so he holds her closer, and continues: “If it gets worse. I’m taking Flynn back to the ports. Don’t go out alone, and don’t open the door for anything. I’ll take you to work and home whenever you need to go out. Understand?”_

_“I understand.” She murmurs after a pause and a shaky breath. The tears feel hot on her cheeks._

_“I can’t lose you.” He says softly, pulling her closer, and gently kisses her cheek. He wipes a tear from her cheeks and readjusts so that her head can rest beneath his. “You’re all I have.”_

_She doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t force her to. He kisses the top of her head, then looks to the ceiling, trying to blink back his own tears. While he’s looking up, she steals a glance to the side, where the envelope sits just out of sight._

It can wait, _she decides finally. She wraps her arms around her husband, holding tight to those remains of her world she had dreamed of so long ago. Tron rocks her and holds her tight, feeling as if his heart is shattering in his chest._

He feels a similar pain as he drifts back to the present. His hand goes to his chest, and he realizes his chest is tight and it’s growing hard to breathe. He bets if he looked in the mirror, the scar across his face would be visible. His destroyed eye felt exposed like it always did when his scars were reappearing.

He stumbles to the room with his healing chamber. He doesn’t step in; he doesn’t have time for that. Instead, he just sticks his hand in. It seems to have a similar effect. He feels the pain receding, and the scars hiding again.

 _Long enough_ , he decides after a moment, and pulls his hand out. The pain returns with a vengeance that forces him to grit his teeth. His scarring returns and grows, nearly touching his eye.

He hears the footsteps too late. Something latches onto the back of his jacket and he starts. He searches for the sound as it begins to beep faster and faster. _A bomb_! He could try and pull it off but there’s no time! No time to empty his pockets of his notebook of information, his keys to some of the most private places in the hideout…no time!

Grunting, he slips off the jacket and tosses it as far as he can. It hits the ground and slides a few feet, just out of the door. Tron turns, covering his ears, and takes cover.

But then…

Nothing happens.

Tron removes his hands from his ears and turns at the sound of footsteps to see Beck appear, holding Tron’s jacket in his hands as he stands in the doorway. Tron’s shock is immediately drowned in anger.

“Look,” Beck says as he approaches Tron. Tron is closing in on him fast. “I know you have your secret plan that I don’t know about.”

He quickly realizes Tron is closing in on him and begins to step back. “But I-I figured that if you saw I could get your vital information, I could get Dyson’s.”

“I don’t want cheap gimmicks!” Tron snaps, snatching his jacket out of Beck’s hands. “I want Dyson!”

He straightens out his jacket and slips it back on as he approaches the door. “Don’t come back until he’s your prisoner.”

“So…that’s it?” Even the smallest nuances of the teenager’s tone are enough to set him off.

“No!” He whips back around, pointing at Beck directly. “If you pull a stunt like that again, you’re out!” He grabs the doorknob.

“I’ll wage this revolution without you!”

And like that, he slams the door, leaving Beck alone and staring at where he had gone.

* * *

 

This leaves Beck no choice but to capture Dyson. So that’s where he finds himself, hiding behind the neon orange letters of the ‘ARGON’ sign, watching the similarly colored ship release its passengers. Grimly, he looks down to the detonator, which shows the bomb he planted ready for activation. 

The Occupation soldiers don’t hear it, though.

“Sir,” Paige says, trailing behind Dyson as he thoughtfully strolls through the park, “I know General Tesler is eager for you to see the energy plant.”

He waves it off as they walk past the flocks of programs in the park. “All in good time. I like to get a feel for the, uh, public.”

He glances back to see her stature is tense, and she’s scanning the area. “You seem nervous about something.” He comments. “It’s not the Renegade business, is it?”

“Him?” Paige looks to him. “Of course not. I can assure you the Renegade is a non-issue.”

“Well,” Pavel drawls, “except for that time he beheaded Clu’s statue…and blew it up.”

They’re nearing the sign. Beck can see and hear them clearly now. He leans out from the sign to watch them.

“My colleague gets carried away. At best, the Renegade is a petty_”

Dyson snaps his fingers and stops.

“_vandal.” Paige breaks off. Dyson looks up, and Beck ducks back with a grunt. Everything comes to a standstill, soldiers scanning the area with their eyes.

“What is it-?” Pavel is cut off by a hand to the mouth. Dyson quickly lets go of him, and moves forward to examine the footprint of a size ten shoe, leading straight to the drain just ahead.

Dyson is catching on fast. Beck must act now!

And so, he activates the detonation.

Dyson hears the beeping, and his eyes narrow before he sprints forward. He slings off the drain cover and pulls off the bomb before tossing it as high as he can. It explodes next to the sign, and Beck grunts as he falls back. He manages to catch himself at the last second, and presses close to the ground as the smoke begins to fade. He doesn’t know if Dyson has seen him, if he’s even watching now…

“Smoke bomb.” Dyson says, and everything (including Beck) relaxes. Dyson, however, remains vigilant. “Up there, it’s harmless, but down here it would have left us an easy target. For what, I wonder?”

Dyson approaches the remains of the bomb that have dropped back to the ground. Paige turns on the guards. “Scour the area! Whoever did this could still be nearby!” They obey and she and Pavel hurry to catch up with Dyson. Now, Beck can hear them clearly.

“There’s only one person who could have done this.”

“Let me guess,” Dyson responds to Paige, “your ‘petty vandal’?”

“My colleague is being modest.” Pavel says, stepping forward. “The Renegade has built quite a reputation. _Some_ even say he’s Tron.”

At that, Dyson laughs. “Oh! Believe me, he’s not Tron. I was there when Tron and Flynn nearly destroyed everything.”

Paige’s eyes widen. “You knew Tron?”

“Knew him?” Dyson gives a dry chuckle and turns to the commanders. “I watched him _die_.”

Beck’s eyes widen and he barely remembers where he is and what he’s doing, otherwise he would have jumped up in shock.

_What?_

* * *

  _Tron had to get Flynn out of here. It was too dangerous now._

_Today was supposed to be a good day. Ophelia, having changed her name to Radia following the loss of so many of her people, was to be appointed as co-leader alongside Clu. It was a somber day for her, having not only lost so many of her people, but her lover within the past few days, but she had managed to hold her head high. Tron and his new apprentice, Anthony (but prefers Anon) were in charge of security for the event._

_Then things got messy. Somehow, this deranged man named Abraxas got past security and had set his sights on killing Clu and Radia. Tron was forced to get as many people out of the venue as he could, shielding ISOs and Creations of Flynn alike from gunfire. It was only with Anon’s quick thinking that the gunfire ended, but Abraxas fled. He was glad his wife was at home, safe. Flynn, however, was not safe anymore. He had to get home, and fast._

_“We need to move quickly.” Tron says, urging the Creator along. “You said yourself you only have a limited amount of time that that portal is open for you to get home. I don’t like it when you cut it this close.”_

_“Would you stop worrying, Tron?” Flynn did seem stressed, but even then managed a small smile still. “Everything’s just fine. Everything’s under control_”_

_“FLYNN!”_

_His name causes the Creator to stop. Tron bites back a sigh as he stops as well and faces the owner of the voice. Clu is watching them, helmet dangling in his left hand._

_“Am I still to do what’s best for the country?”_

_Flynn’s brow furrows, but he gives a crooked smile. “Yeah?”_

_Clu smirks, satisfied with his answer. He slips on his helmet, and steps back as from each side, rogue soldiers close in on the Creator and his Protector. Tron hurries and grabs his gun._

_“Go.” He growls to Flynn, who doesn’t hesitate, and runs. Tron doesn’t think. Just shoots. The first one goes down, but he doesn’t have enough time to shoot the next one. He elbows that guard in the face, snatches his knife, and slits his throat with it. The soldier falls, instantly drowning in his own blood. He looks down the knife in horror. Yes, he had killed before, but never so brutally…_

_But he couldn’t about that anymore. He had to make sure Flynn made it out safe. So he stopped thinking._

_After some time, he’s surrounded by the bodies of the rogues. He turns to find Clu, and his heart nearly leaps up his throat to find him closing in on Flynn, a long jagged dagger in his hands._

_No!_

_“Why?” He can hear Flynn panting, crawling back. “Why?”_

_Before Clu say anything or even move, Tron tackles him to the ground. They roll until Clu is pinned down. In his rage, Tron lands one good punch, before looking up to see Flynn is still on the ground, watching the scene in horror._

_“Flynn GO!” Tron screams at him. This sets Flynn into motion and he takes off. Tron watches him go, at the cost of being distracted. He grunts as he’s thrown off, and he’s too slow. Clu pins him down, raises his dagger high, before slamming down into his chest._

_He can’t help but scream at the blinding and burning pain through his chest. It spreads as the tip does, down the length of his upper body. When Clu pulls out the dagger, Tron draws a ragged breath, and tries to reach up to wrestle the dagger away from him. Before he can, Clu grabs his head and slams it back down, making Tron black out for a moment. He’s brought back to consciousness almost instantly when the dagger plunges into him again, ripping the air out of Tron with a gasp. Again, the dagger drags down his body. And again. And again…_

_Tron can barely breathe when Clu stands. The little breath he can find hitches, though, when Clu drags him by the leg. Blood is leaving a path as Clu drags him along, before finally dropping him on top of the cooling body of a dead soldier, his blood mixing with that which was not his own._

_Clu removes his helmet again and lets it clatter to the ground next to him. He watches Tron with the ghost of a triumphant grin as the Protector tries to catch his breath._

_“You failed, Clu.” Tron manages finally, but Clu’s expression doesn’t change. “Flynn will_ vanish _, disappear! He’s the Creator!”_

 _“He can go wherever he wants.” Clu shrugs off, towering above him for once. “It was_ you _I’m after.”_

_What? Tron can barely think._

_“Without the mighty_ Tron _, the creator will fall. And Clu will rise.” Someone is joining Clu at his side, and Tron’s not sure he recognizes him. Unless…_

_“Dyson?”_

_Clu laughs and looks to Dyson. “What do you think, Tron? I made him_ perfect _again.”_

_Dyson steps out of the dark and turns his head to find…nothing. No scarring. Just Dyson’s face as it had been before that fateful day. As if nothing happened. He cups his unblemished face again with pride. Which means…_

_“Dyson…” Tron struggles to speak, “I trusted you! He betrayed us!”_

_“You’re wrong.” Dyson speaks finally, looking down on him. “_ Flynn _betrayed us…betrayed_ all of us _.”_

_Tron shakes his head minutely. He can’t believe it!_

_“Now Clu is free to cleanse the world of the ISOs.” Dyson says, and steps back as Clu kneels. The dagger is back again, and it plunges right where Tron’s heart is, and the Protector gives a weak, yet final cry._

The cry still echoes faintly in Tron’s ears as he sees Beck return on his bike as a storm brews above. In the reflection, Tron can note that his scarring is starting to cup his eye, but he could care less when he realizes that Beck is not dragging anyone along.

He came back alone, and that causes Tron to shake.

Within minutes, he hears the door open, and Tron is already waiting for him.

“I told you not to come back empty-handed.” He growls.

Beck sheds his mask, and for the first time in a long while, there’s rage in the teenager’s eyes.

“Just answer me one question.” He demands, closing in on Tron. “Is this about fighting the revolution, or killing Dyson?”

“This isn’t your battle. Stay out of it!”

Tron pushes to move past Beck, but he doesn’t get far before the Renegade puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey!”

Tron turns when Beck tugs to see a heavy look in his eyes. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not letting you kill for revenge_”

His statement is broken off with a cry and his whole body tenses as his muscles seize. Tron removes the taser as Beck’s eyes roll into the back of his head. Without the touch of Tron, Beck crumples on his own, unconscious. Tron towers over Beck, and lightning outside gives the room an eerie glow.

“I didn’t ask your permission.” He growls.


	13. Chapter Twelve- angeli rei memóriam illústrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome everyone! I was able to get this chapter out before I go back to school in a couple days, and this is the end of the Scars arc! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As a warning, this chapter will deal with a lot of graphic violence/torture, along with some descriptions of blood and bodily injury. In my opinion, this chapter is worse than the previous about it (it was the main reason I decided to the change the rating on this story to M). Also, there is a segment of this story that discusses the death of a woman and her unborn child. If that concept makes you any sort of uncomfortable, I will put an author's note in bold font before and after the scene, so you can skip it with ease. Trust me, I was kind of uncomfortable writing this chapter, so I will not blame you at all if you pass over that scene, but I feel better informing you all beforehand.

He can feel himself nearing the very edges of consciousness; that point where all the senses excluding sight return. Slowly, though, despite the pounding that has grown in his head since he woke, he opens his eyes. It’s only a small amount at first, enough for the blurs to come into focus and for him to find that the exit door was thrown wide open.

This wakes him fully and he grunts as he forces himself to sit up despite the residual aches. He sighs as he leans forward to accommodate the pain, before pushing himself to his feet from that position and rushing to the window overlooking the barren wilderness. This makes it easy to spot the white-detailed bike quickly heading towards the lights of the city.

The rain is still hitting the window as Beck’s brow furrows while he overlooks the wilderness.

“Where are you going, Tron?”

_And how is he wearing white? When I saw him, he was wearing dark colors…_

Beck is hurrying to the exit when he feels something press down beneath his shoe. He stops, and bends down to pick up the object that was now folded in on itself. It’s made of stiff fabric, and when Beck flips it over, he nearly drops it again.

_Center City Police Force_

At this moment, Beck comes to realize two things:

  1. Tron has at least _two_ white uniforms. That would explain the white. It must have been his old police uniform. He would have needed more than one.
  2. His mentor has been hiding more from him than he first thought.

* * *




And so Beck takes off after him. As he goads the bike to scenic blurring speeds, it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to Tron. The old warrior glances back and seems to notice him, for he takes a sharp turn around a shamble of rocks. Beck is able to lean with the sharp turn easily, without hitting the rocks.

“Come on Tron!” Beck yells over the wind as he nears the older warrior. “This isn’t you!”

Before Tron can do anything, Beck speeds up until he nearly leaves Tron in the dust. Then, he screeches back around, speeding back towards him. Tron is forced to turn back, but Beck doesn’t let him get far before catching up and passing him by again. Beck presses closer into the hill and slows, not allowing Tron to pass. Instead, the experienced warrior lowers the cover on his helmet and forces his bike up the hill.

Tron nearly loses his balance on the snow but kicks off to steady himself. The engine roars as he tears towards the edge of the hill. Ground leaves beneath him as he soars. Beck can’t help but look up with wide eyes as Tron flies over him, and lands with a near slide back on the ground ahead of Beck. And like that, Tron has the upper hand again.

Instead of sticking close, however, Tron abandons Beck to take a new trail through the barren land. This doesn’t slip past Beck, who hurries to catch up. By the time he does, they’ve entered the wreckage of travelers and those just as unfortunate, long gone. Tron and Beck part ways enough for the latter to gain on the former without being seen until he rams into Tron.

“Enough.” Beck says, now that they’re close. Tron’s grip tightens on the handlebars and he only glares and rams back into Beck, not giving the younger man a word. This does not satisfy the younger man, who rears back and slams into him again, shaking the warrior. Beck reaches out to grab him, but falls just ahead of his arm, hitting the side of the bike in his failure.

“ENOUGH!” Beck screams, urging his bike into Tron’s.

He only happens to glance up in time to see both bikes barreling towards a large pile of wreckage. He gasps and grits his teeth as he pulls the brakes enough to slow him. Tron, however, doesn’t back down, gaze boring into the small hole at the bottom of the hole. In a move that seems effortless, he lays the bike on its side and slides through the hole. The bike protests and grinds against the ground but is able to stand back up again with little effort. This leaves time for Tron to grab himself a weapon, a long metal bar, from the wreckage before taking off.

Cursing himself for the lost time, Beck accelerates to catch up with his rogue mentor. The sight of the canyon is hurrying closer and closer, and already Beck knows what Tron intends to do. This time, Beck won’t fail to make it across.

 However, this was not in the cards for the teenager. Tron rams into him, causing him to nearly lose his balance. While he is distracted, Tron rams the metal bar into his front wheel and lets go. Beck’s bike flips, Tron hears it, but he only looks forward as he takes the ridge and once again flies. It’s an easy pass, and he lands safely on the other side.

 Beck, however, is thrown off his bike as all his momentum flips the bike forward. He and the bike tumble, and his breathing catches in his chest. He has to _let go_. And so he does, causing him to roll. His hands fly out, trying to stop himself. He finally slides to a stop with his head sticking out over the abyss.

“ _Whoa_.” Beck can barely breathe; afraid the one breath will send him over the edge. When it doesn’t, he looks up, and swears he locks gaze with Tron as the elder watches him. Immediately, though, Tron turns his head, and takes off towards Argon.

 Gingerly, Beck braces himself and pushes away from the edge. One of his wrists sharply protests, but he only grunts at the pain as he pushes himself to his feet. The wind hits the rips and tears in the Renegade’s uniform, stinging the wounds exposed from his crash. But he doesn’t focus on that, instead searching his pockets. He pulls out a dim device, and when he hits the side, the visual focuses. On it, the beacon of Tron’s bike grows farther and farther away, but Beck can glean a small victory from this.

 Now, he needs to fix his bike.

* * *

 “You had simple orders. Give Dyson a tour. Make sure it goes smoothly…” He doesn’t even stop walking as he roars, “so why didn’t it?!”

“There was a minor security lapse.” Paige hurries to answer, hoping to calm the General. “But Dyson was unharmed.”

“Fortunately, _I_ was there to stop the Renegade from claiming his target.” Pavel announces before Paige can say anything more, and her work to appease Tesler is ruined as his anger begins to boil.

“If I hear one more mention of the_”

“Mention of whom?” General Tesler stops speaking and the trio freezes in their tracks as Tesler’s throne turns to them, Dyson lounging in it. Despite the relaxed posture, his eyes are searching the three for a dare of an answer.

“Oh, no-no one important.” Tesler quickly squashes down his anger, masking it with a polite smile as he approaches the throne.

 “Dyson! So glad to see you’re treating my ship…as your ship.” Tesler chuckles, but behind his back, his hands are beginning to glow, which doesn’t miss the sharp eye of the second in command.

“Is there…a problem, Tesler?”

“Not at all. Why would you say that-?”

“Because I sense a surprising lack of control over the city. It might be necessary for me to stick around a while longer…” Dyson notes, “maybe indefinitely.”

Tesler goes still as Dyson rises, continuing.

“Besides, I’m looking forward to meeting this, uh…Renegade.” He approaches Tesler, “But we’ll never catch him if we’re always sitting around on the job,” He pats the taller man’s shoulder for one moment, before continuing past him, “will we?”

When no one speaks as he begins to walk away, Dyson calls back: “Doesn’t this tour come with guides?!”

Tesler doesn’t turn to address the General. The Commanders can hear his growling, so Paige hurries to appease.

“I’ll handle it.” She promises Tesler. “There won’t be anymore trouble.”

Dyson hears someone hurry to catch up with him, but he hardly cares that it’s Commander Paige. The near brush with this ‘Renegade’ character and the conversation that followed still stews in his mind.

  _I saw Tron die_ , he was certain of it, he had made sure of it. So how was this ‘Renegade’ deceiving so many people? He wasn’t Tron, but even Tesler’s own men seem to be swaying to the lie.

 This couldn’t stand. He’ll need to find this man soon. This time, he can ensure that ‘Tron’ dies. It’s what Clu would expect on a mission like this.

 Clu’s expectancies remind him of another time the Luminary had a mission to squash out any threats of rebellion.

* * *

 

 _Tron was going to fall. It was only a matter of time, but they had to perform some damage control. Tron’s soldiers, the ones he used to share with Dyson, were gathered up and neutralized to be transported to the prisons as traitors. There was a warrant out for Anthony’s arrest, under the lie that he had a hand in the death of the Creator.  They can’t have anyone who believed the Creator had actually been_ good _to the people under him, and those who were an ally of Tron roaming the streets. Dyson was the only one who had known Tron that could not be considered a traitor to Clu. All others must have their voices crushed before they can cry out in rebellion._

_Which is why, after rounding up all the soldiers, Dyson and a small guard step into the elevator and begin to rise. This was a special mission Clu had given to Dyson, and Dyson was eager to further prove his loyalty. This was one ally of Tron and the Creator that could certainly not be ignored or forgotten._

_The doors open and the small guard follows Dyson as he takes the well-remembered path until he stops in front of a seemingly ordinary door. He gives a quick rap on the door, steps back, and schools the excited look out of his eyes. There’s a small pause, before the door opens._

_“Dyson?” Yori asks, holding onto the door. She glances between the guard, and Dyson, and shies back. She’s uncertain. “Is everything okay? I’ve been calling my husband, but he hasn’t been answering his phone. Is he hurt?”_

_Dyson looks up to her, allowing his solemn expression to give her a reassuring smile. “May we come in?”_

* * *

  It doesn’t take long to reach the energy plant. He finds that the Commander is true to her duty and stays at his side. He glances to her to find she is once again scanning their surroundings.

  _Is Tesler so incompetent that his soldiers are looking for this Renegade in even the most unlikely places? If this were my command, there would be no renegade, no discomfort when it comes to something this simple. Clu will not be pleased with this and will grant my indefinite surveillance. Then, I can_ squash _this rebellion. Then, these soldiers can understand true competency. True service. Not this back and forth to cover their assets._

Well, he’d like to see what Tesler’s own underlings think.

“So,” Dyson says finally, and Paige looks to him as they walk, “how long is Tesler going to keep on _pretending_ he can handle this renegade, hm?”

 “Permission to speak candidly?” Dyson hums his approval, so Paige continues. “He’s shiftier than we gave him credit for, but _hardly_ a threat.”

The moment she says that, though, the towers hiss and release their gas, clouding the floor and triggering the alarms. Dyson stares at the gas in disdain.

 “ _Hardly a threat?_ You’ll forgive me if I no longer trust your word on that.”

 “I’ll…be right back.” The Commander says, but Dyson doesn’t need to look to her to know she’s run off. Maybe he was wrong, and this was a plot that she was a pawn of. If she is, then perhaps she too will lose her position.

There’s nothing he can do for now, except search for the culprit.

 Unbeknownst to him, he is being watched by a jaded man, half buried in shadow. As Tron glares down at the unknowing soldier, he can only think of the last day they had seen each other…

* * *

 

_His chest burns as he tries to take a deep breath. It comes out as a heavy gasp before his lungs spasm. His eyes flick open, then scrunch close as he is consumed by a coughing fit. He can’t hear the whispers, not until his coughing ceases with another gasp for air, and someone touches his arm._

_Instantly, he shoves the person away and scrambles back. He reaches for his gun but finds he has been completely disarmed. He looks up to the threat, only for his shoulders to slump in weary relief._

_“Reeve.” He breathes. He reaches for the floor behind him, and grunts as he tries to push himself up._

_“Easy.” Reeve says, taking his arm in two hands before helping him up against the wall. Once Tron leans back with a sigh, Reeve crouches next to him. “Tron. You’re_”_

_“I know.” He grunts at the spike of pain. “I know. Clu…Dyson…caught the Creator and I off our guards. I did what I could to make sure the Creator got away.”_

_Reeve curses. “I should have known it was those two. Clu’s soldiers came and rounded everyone at the tower up. Dyson was leading them, that_ snake _.”_

_Tron looks up to Reeve, and dimly realizes that his teammate has a swollen lip and the beginnings of a black eye. “Everyone?” He asks._

_"All of us.” Tron turns his head to Gwendolyn’s voice to see her and Rhett in the next cell. Their hands are cuffed, and Tron glances back to see Reeve is also cuffed, but then looks down to see he is not. This injury must be worse than he feared if he’s missing such simple details. “Not sure why they have us in the cells. We haven’t broken the law.”_

_“I don’t know either.” Tron says, looking back to her. “But I’m going to get us out.”_

_Grunting, he begins to lift himself with shaking arms. Protests arise from the remains of his team, and Reeve hurries to stop him._

_“Please Tron. Save your strength. You_ have _to survive these injuries.”_

_“I’ll survive.” Tron grumbles. “I’ll be damned if I don’t.”_

_The trio share an uncertain glance over Tron’s head, but don’t argue. Instead, Reeve sighs, and puts a hand on Tron’s shoulder. This gets the older warrior’s attention. “There’s something you should know, Tron.”_

_“What?” Reeve seems hesitant, so Tron asks again. “What is it?”_

_“We…have reason to believe that…well, after they rounded all of us up, I saw Dyson and a group of soldiers get into the elevator that leads up to the private quarters. I tried to break free, to follow them…that failed.”_

_“What are you trying to say?” Tron asks, brow furrowed._

_Reeve looks down, and Tron feels cold._

_“Are you saying…are you saying they have Yori?”_

_“It’s my best guess as to why they went up there. You’re one of the few of us that has a spouse, and you had told me she was home at the time…”_

_“So she might be here somewhere?” A chill runs down his spine. His wife_ couldn’t _be here. It was too dangerous! “We’ll just have to get her, too.”_

_Reeve opens his mouth to say something more but is interrupted by a banging on the cell. Everyone looks over to see a swarm of guards open the doors to each cell and enter. Three guards approach the wall, and pin Tron back as the others grab Reeve._

_“What are you doing?” Reeve demands. “Get your hands off me, traitor!”_

_“Reeve!” Tron calls, trying to fight the grip of his guards as Reeve is slammed in the back with a baton. He grunts, and falls to his knees, practically collapsing in on himself. The guards take the opportunity to grab Reeve and drag him out as the soldier has gone limp and seems to be barely hanging onto consciousness._

_“Reeve!” Gwendolyn and Rhett are pulled out of their cells to fall in line with the others. “Gwendolyn! Rhett! Hold on! Hold on!”_

_Tron’s guards ignore him, and instead pull him to his feet. Instead of turning the opposite direction, they follow just behind the crowd. Tron has stopped yelling to catch his desperately needed breath._

_“Where are we going?” He asks once he catches his breath. Once again, the guards don’t answer, merely ushering the weakened warrior along. At a hallway, the two groups part, leaving the four to travel alone in silence._

_And yet, the silence isn’t as long as he expected. He wonders what lies ahead as they approach a large window and stop. The guards turn him to face it, and Tron has to restrain a gasp._

_Down below, more of Clu’s men have surrounded Tron’s own. They’re being forced against pillars where they’re further chained, even with little metallic tools attached to their eyes to force them open. His eyes track down Reeve at the same time that his teammate looks up to see him through the observing glass._

_“Reeve!” He calls, though he knows he can’t hear, and fights against the guards though his odds of breaking free in his state are slim. “Hang tight until I can figure a way out of here!”_

_Reeve doesn’t hear, doesn’t even get a full amount of time to read Tron’s lips as Clu’s guards force him against his own pillar. When he tries to turn his head back, one of the guards grabs him by the chin, and forces him to face forward. Tron can see his chained body squirming as they force his eyes open and head back. Once they finish, most of the guards exit the room. Those that remain seem to plug their ears, and cover their eyes with dark shades, watching the trapped officers. Tron can’t hear them through the glass, but he knows they’re screaming obscenities, demanding to know what’s happening and they should be let go. And as long as Tron had some life in him, he intended to fight as well._

_The off-white wall on the opposite side of Tron seems to turn on and fizzle. The screen is bright for the mere second Tron can see it. All he needs is one mere second._

_“No! Reeve-!” His protests are momentarily cut off as the guards grab at his face, a hand going to cover his eyes. He grits his teeth and tries to squirm out of their grip, but the guards are currently stronger than the Creator’s strongest warrior. “Let go of me!” He snaps, but their grips are digging into his skin. He’s sinking, being pulled down and down and down…_

_After what seems to be eternity, the hand over his eyes releases. He doesn’t fight, trying to catch his breath as his chest burns, still pinned to the ground by the guards. He manages to crane his neck up, and the breath he had worked so hard for catches._

_The guards in the control room have pushed up their glasses to the tops of their heads or have pocketed them as they release Tron’s men from their posts. However, as they’re let go, none of them…move. Their arms hand limply at their sides as they all stand ramrod straight, not moving as if they were…were…_

_One of the guards says something into a microphone, and all of Tron’s soldiers began a slow dirge to the exit. If Tron was to crane his neck far enough, perhaps he could see that the once-expressive eyes of his co-workers were now blank, expressionless…_

_Tron groans, chest aching no longer just from his injuries, and hangs his head as it all crashes down on him. These were not his soldiers, his co-workers, his_ friends _. Not anymore._

_“Dyson…” He wonders out loud in a horrified whisper, “what have you done?”_

_The guards say nothing, remaining as silent as they had been the entire time. Perhaps they didn’t hear him, or perhaps they didn’t think he deserved an answer. Either way, it’s after a moment’s pause that Tron feels himself pulled to his feet and dragged away from the emptying room._

_It feels both like an eternity and a mere second before the guards force him onto a slab of metal and restrain his arms and legs before he can even fight back. Tron, however, doesn’t even try his strength against the metal bonds before a guard pulls a lever and the slab rotates from a horizontal to vertical position. Now, Tron can see the door enough to not miss the masked soldier. They almost saunter towards Tron as his escort and any other guards go the opposite direction. The door seals shut, but neither of the remaining men say a word, Tron breathing heavily through his nostrils while the soldier comes to a stop in front of him._

_“Hello,” the soldier greets, before removing his helmet. Dyson gives him a fond smile, as if nothing had happened, and they were merely delving into small talk, “old friend.”_

_Tron glares, just in the same way Tron glares in the present._

However, Tron’s memory is broken by the minute sound of footsteps. Not from Dyson (who had begun to investigate through the gas), but from somewhere behind him. It didn’t take a genius to guess who it was.

“You found me.” The footsteps stop, but Tron doesn’t turn his head. He won’t lose sight of Dyson this time. “I guess I should congratulate you.”

“I was trained by the best.” Beck comments, before he grunts, and Tron hears him land on the same catwalk as him.

“You being here doesn’t change _anything_.” Beck rises from his crouch to look to Tron as he speaks. “I’m still going to finish what I came to do.”

“And I’ll still stop you.” He grows closer to the older warrior, exposing himself. It almost seems as if Tron were talking to a younger self with their identical uniforms, even if Beck’s was slightly rumpled and dirtied from his fall in the wilderness.

“Come with me.” Beck continues. “We can get whatever information Dyson has the _right_ way, without killing him.”

Tron doesn’t speak. However, he does turn his gaze away from Dyson, and to Beck. The boy takes this as a step in the right direction but pleads anyway. “Please.”

Tron crosses to him, and _maybe_ Tron was going to leave this bloody path, and actually _listen_ to Beck…

That thought disappears the moment Tron decks Beck across the face.

The blow knocks him back with a grunt, and he stumbles as he tries to balance himself. His wide eyes look up at Tron in shock, before they narrow, and he lunges forward with a cry.

Tron easily blocks his swing and uses his elbow to hit him in the gut. Beck folds in on himself but tries to lunge out there. Tron pushes him back and knees his stomach, and Beck barely has enough time to throw up his arms before Tron is aiming for his face. His block is effective, and he drops it to jump at a hole in Tron’s defense. He misses completely as Tron dodged. One fist to the chest takes his air. Before he can register, Tron’s arms are wrapped around his chest and he grunts as his back slams into the catwalk. The pain races up and down his back. Tron won’t _get off_!

It doesn’t take much to push Tron off of him. He catches his breath as Tron backs away. He tries to pursue again, but a force jerks his left arm back painfully. Grunting, he tests the arm again, and finally looks over to his wrist is cuffed to the catwalk. His gaze snaps back to Tron to see him activate his knife, the laser practically a beacon for his eyes to catch on.

“My knife!” Beck hisses and tries to pull his wrist out of the cuff uselessly.

“The cuffs work on a timer.” Tron says, ignoring Beck’s outburst. He deactivates it again, and sheaths it in exchange for his sword. That, he stabs into the wall, and it embeds itself there. “By the time they unlock, Dyson will be dead.”

It’s a promise, and Tron’s voice gives no contradiction to that as he lifts the face mask over his nose before pulling on the old riot helmet from his days as an enforcer. It left Beck feeling as if he’s staring into something soulless, for he even couldn’t see his eyes.

Tron returns his gaze it seems, watching for a long moment. Then, he turns and leaps from the catwalk to the domed tower nearby.

“Tron!” He doesn’t turn back at Beck’s screams, the desperation ringing clear in his voice. “ _Don’t end the revolution before it has a chance to start!_ ”

* * *

 

Far above Beck, and even farther above Tron and Dyson, sits an office. At this time of the night, it should be abandoned. And yet the dim light from the computers was enough to give a shadow to the thin face who chuckled darkly as he urged the knob farther and farther towards danger.

Danger. Please evacuate immediately. 

Pavel sees no need to heed this order. He is in no true danger, not at the controls, and he thrives off this power. In so deep, he fails to notice the other presence in the room until much too late.

He yells in pain as the kick is sharp in his side. The momentum catches him off guard enough to send him sliding across the floor. “That REALLY HURT!” He screams as he turns back to his attacker.

“Trying to cause an overload?” Commander Paige doesn’t even bother to try and hide her anger, not this time. She’s remained patient and level with all of Pavel’s comments and subtle digs to Tesler’s character and her own in front of Dyson? But _this_? This was straight up sabotage.

“N-no.” Pavel scrambles for an answer as he sits himself up. “I-I found them like this. It must have been the Renegade.”

Paige rolls her eyes as she readjusts the dials back down to stable levels. “Don’t insult me. You’ve been trying to undermine Tesler since the moment Dyson landed.” Down below, the tanks stopped disposing their gas and return to stability.

“Lies.”

Paige raises her eyebrows. “Theirs is undeniable amounts of proof here,” she points to her temple, “ and the Occupation has the technology to view my memories and find the truth. How about I show Tesler? How _fast_ do you think he’d throw you into the Games?” She barely bites back a sigh of disgust as she lets her hand drop and begins to storm past him.

“Wait.” He begins to walk with her, so she stops. He keeps his voice low, as if they would be heard in the otherwise empty office. “Isn’t it obvious? Tesler’s on his way out. And when he goes down, his most loyal solders are taking the plunge with him. But it doesn’t have to be that way!” His passion causes the volume in his voice to raise.  “Not for us!”

For a small pause, Paige says nothing. Then she raises an eyebrow. “You _really_ want to form a secret alliance with me?”

_Well when you put it that way…_

“…Maybe.”

“It is _amazing_ how you keep finding new ways to disgust me.” She turns her back to him, heading towards the exit with a silence that has wrecked through any of Pavel’s previous hopes. She stops for one moment. “Oh. And no.” She adds over her shoulder before slamming the doors open and walking out. All Pavel can do is watch her go with a growing glare. Someday, one way or another, she will join him. Even if he has to drag her by the hair kicking and screaming.

* * *

 

“Renegade…” Dyson’s voice echoes oddly through the empty plant. Well, _supposedly_ empty plant. “I know you’re here.”

“Why don’t you come out?” Dyson continues as he descends the stairs of one of the long towers. All around him is the still smoke simply hovering over the floor. Silent. Undisturbed. “You see _me._ I’m not hiding.”

There’s a mere pause afterwards. It only takes a second to pass before Dyson chuckles. “So you’ve tricked a meager few into thinking you’re Tron.” He reaches the bottom of the stairs. The smoke on the floor pools around his ankles and is disturbed as he kneels. It parts enough as Dyson touches the floor to examine the heat signature of a particular footprint. All it takes is one glance up to see the all familiar emblem cutting through the dark.

 A grin that’s a more a frightening number of teeth to be visible slides onto his face as he rises and he takes off in a brisk walk, that quickly becomes a run. “You’re just playing dress up, wearing a dead man’s—” He’s cut off as he cuts through the smoke to find the T doesn’t belong to a person, but is rather the collection of bombs that are pinned to the wall and are ticking down. His eyes widen, “—emblem!”

He doesn’t think to run as the bombs explode. The force throws him back and he groans as he skids across the ground, dispersing smoke. Had he been paying attention to anything other than his own pain, he would have heard a young scream as a boy chained to a catwalk was thrown over the bar by the jolt, and was now dangling by his chained wrist far above the ground. But he heard none of this, and instead focuses on controlling his breathing through the pain. His panting sounds wounded, ragged, and he remembers the last time he heard his target like this, the last time he ever saw Tron before his death-

* * *

 

**(AN: This is the excerpt I discussed in the author's note at the beginning of the chapter. Feel free to skip over this. I have marked the end of the scene with an author's note in bold font.)**

_Tron is panting, biting back grunts through gritted teeth. Dyson remains expressionless as he works, sparks lighting up his face as Tron struggles not to twitch but his body is once again his enemy. They are alone, and they will remain alone as long as the two guards outside the doors remain in their position. For now, they are alone, and Tron refuses to even look at him as Dyson pokes and prods different places that send a course of energy through the warrior’s body that cause his muscles to seize with a sharp intake of air._

_Dyson finds himself satisfied for the moment as he sets the prod down on the cart next to the slab. He presses the button to allow the slab to rise. “You haven’t said a word.” He notes with a small chuckle. He can hear Tron’s panting grow heavier as he’s practically stood up, head so heavy he can’t hold it up. Dyson goes to the counter to retrieve his surgical gloves. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”_

_“What have you done to them?” Tron manages in response._

_“Who?” Tron doesn’t have to answer as Dyson sighs nonchalantly. “Oh, our team. Um, it’s just Clu’s latest project. He calls it, uh, ‘_ repurposing’.”

_“That was brainwashing!” Dyson doesn’t answer to Tron’s weak exclamation. Tron takes a shaky breath, then asks: “How many have you repurposed?”_

_“Under your command? Everyone.” Dyson doesn’t need to turn back to know that Tron’s eyes have widened in horror, and he grins as he pulls the gloves tight over his arms. He knew his old friend enough for him to realize that he meant_ everyone _who was an enforcer in the city had been turned. Dyson turns back and in mere steps leers over Tron. “You are Flynn’s last soldier, old friend.”_

 _“I may be the last soldier.” Tron pants, brow furrowing as his eyes narrow. With a slow climb of strength, he lifts his head to meet Dyson’s smirking gaze. “But I’m not alone. I know you have Yori, and I won’t ever give in. I_ will _get out of here, and_ I will _break her out, too. We will fight every second until you, Clu, and your flock of_ traitors _surrender or take your last breath!”_

_Tron had begun to yell by the end of his sentence, and his pledge echoes through the dark room. Dyson remains expressionless as Tron grits his teeth and seethes, unwilling to break the glare out of pure defiance. He waits for anger, for a harsh slap or for the torture to continue._

_When Tron looks back, he supposes the torture never did cease. For he didn’t expect the expression on the face of Clu’s lapdog to turn downward, eyebrows scrunching and eyes filling with an expression he can’t recognize on a hostile face. “You don’t know.”_

_“Know what?” Tron demands, pushing all his anger into a brick wall façade that hides his growing worry. “If you so much as laid a finger on her-!”_

_“We were trying to help her.” Dyson doesn’t need to yell to speak over Tron, forcing him into silence. The longer Tron stares into Dyson’s gaze, he can recognize the shallow emotion pooling there._

_When Tron doesn’t speak, Dyson continues. “She was going to be in danger, what with Anthony having gone rogue and that Abraxas abomination lurking about the city. You had flagged yourself as a traitor by taking the Creator’s side, but that didn’t mean she had to follow you. You’re right, Tron. She’s strong, independent, defiant, and yet all the more loving and loyal to you. It’s unfortunate that those last two aspects overwrote everything else. She refused to believe the truth and fought us. I told my men ‘don’t hurt her’, but she had left them no choice…”_

_Tron opens his mouth but can’t speak. His throat is dry, like any water in his body is now storming towards his eyes. He blinks hard with a breath like a fish thrown onto land. “Wh…what are you saying?” He couldn’t be saying what he thinks he is trying to say…no…_

_“I’m sorry, Tron.” Dyson turns his back to the warrior, returning to the table. He reaches for something, and studies it out of Tron’s line of sight._

_“No…no you’re_ lying _...”_

_“I wish I was.” Is all Dyson says as he holds the object up to the light. Tron squints despite every effort to not look at his captor to see he’s holding a blood-stained envelope. “But the soldiers had fallen back on their initial orders, and I cannot blame them for that. Especially not with the fight she gave them. I did what I could to stop all the bleeding, but her injuries were too grave. I’m sorry, old friend.”_

_“No!” Tron shakes his head so fast he feels sick, and the mental image of his wife’s bloodied body sprawled unnaturally on the floor of their apartment doesn’t help that. He squeezes his eyes shut, and that only makes the image worse. No more warm touches, no more of her smiles more precious than any jewel. He can never hold her again…_

_“You’re…you’re not sorry! You’re lying to me!”_

_Dyson sighs, and shakes his head, lowering the envelope. He says nothing, but Tron opens his eyes as he hears Dyson approach._

_“We found this afterward.” Dyson holds the envelope under his nose, so Tron can’t avoid looking at it. “Do you recognize this?”_

_Despite everything in him crying out at him not to answer, he shakes his head._

_“Hm.” Dyson frowns. “It’s unusual that she kept a secret from you, especially one of this magnitude. Perhaps she was waiting for better times, hoping they would come just in the nick of time, hm?” When Tron says nothing, Dyson continues: “You should see this.”_

_Part of Tron wishes he could reach out and take out the envelope, even though he knows his hands would shake. All he can do is watch as Dyson opens the envelope with ease and pulls out the document within._

_No, not a document. A_ photo _. It’s in black and white, and the image is slightly blurry, but if Tron can squint…_

_No…_

_There’s a shape curled up in the center of the photo, surrounded by white. It’s small, barely formed, but it doesn’t take a medical professional to understand what it is. The denial is already on his tongue- Yori would have told him about_ this _-until he sees her name in the top corner. At some point, she had gone to the doctor, gotten this and…and…_

_He can’t breathe. All air has been sucked out of his body, sucked out of the room. Any fight against his tears is gone, and so they roll without resistance. He chokes on the air he finds again, chokes on the unfamiliar sound clawing its way up his throat._

_He had a child! Yori had been expecting! No wonder she had seemed so upset lately, more than he would have expected…_

_“I wish she wouldn’t have fought us. We had no idea she was expecting; she didn’t tell us. If she hadn’t fought…” Dyson leaves the thought unfinished as he merely watches the world’s greatest soldier bow his head in a rare show of emotion, watches as his shoulders shake with nearly inaudible sobs._

_After a long moment, Dyson sighs, and places his hand on Tron’s shoulder, and the man goes tense. His chained hands clench into fists, and his head snaps towards Dyson with a roar. The man guilty with the destruction of Tron’s entire life withdraws his hand, quickly putting distance between them._

_“You bastard. You wanted this, didn’t you?” Tron spits, no longer crying, but his eyes are bloodshot. “You wanted me to be alone. You forced Flynn into hiding, you brainwashed my men into something they would never do! You took…” His voice hitches, but he forces himself on. “You took_ my family _. What more do you want from me!?”_

 _Dyson doesn’t answer. He merely stares at him expressionlessly for one moment, before turning his back. And in Tron’s mind, it clicks. He finds he can breathe again, but he’s well spent of emotion. He lets his head drop. “If I’m next, then_ get it over with already. _”_

_“No.” Dyson is piecing together something out of Tron’s line of sight, not that Tron is actually watching him. “Repurposing is crude, leaves little of the personality intact.” He looks back and meets Tron’s gaze as the latter looks up. “I’d rather you join willingly.”_

_“Never.”_

_“Are you blind?!” Dyson is towering over him in moments. A saw is buzzing in his hand but lies in wait as its owner begins his impassioned rage. “By overthrowing Flynn, Clu will bring order! Only through perfection can we all be truly liberated!”_

_“You’re delusional, Dyson.” Tron raises his head to squarely meet his gaze. “Clu didn’t improve your face. He made you harder to look at!”_

_He looks away before he can see any emotion on Dyson’s face. The man sighs for a long moment. “I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand.”_

_By the time Tron registers what he said, Dyson has grabbed his head and forced it back against the slab, their faces inches apart._

_“I am going to show you what it’s like…” Dyson backs away, and the buzzing saw grows closer and closer, leaving Tron no means of escape. “…to be_ imperfect _.”_

_As the saw worked its magic, Dyson can feel the grim satisfaction and vindication as Tron is struggling to hide his pain. His eyes are wide in horror, then his right squeezes shut as he grits his teeth. Blood runs down his face, falling in his lips, staining his teeth and leaving a taste that to this day still makes Tron want to gag as it runs down his throat. It continues down his chin, onto his battered and torn uniform, where the stains would never fade, and down the other side of his face._

_Dyson doesn’t look at him again once he’s finished. Rather, he calmly disables the saw and removes his bloodied gloves before laying them on the cart next to Tron. Without a word, he turns and exits, where the guards part for him._

_“Take him to the throneship.” The guards obey silently, creeping into the room cautiously. They had heard the screaming, and the sobs, and then the saw…but nothing could have prepared them for the sight. Dyson hears one of the guards gasp as they turn Tron’s head and the warrior groans. His right eye fluttering is the only thing recognizable between the blood and the torn skin, muscle, and slight sliver of bone on his right. And his eye…the guards didn’t dare glance to its suspected hiding place among the bloodied gloves. Dyson smirks at their terror, at the shattering of the image of Flynn’s warrior._

**(AN: End of excerpt.)  
**

* * *

 

_The ship’s doors close after Dyson makes certain Tron is still chained and unconscious with a guard on either side of him. Though he was weakened extremely, Tron has been known for his resourcefulness, and Dyson has to ensure that he can’t escape. He will go to the throneship’s prisons, where he will either spend the rest of his days in solitude, or he will give in to Dyson’s offer. Knowing Tron, though, the man will likely die in those prisons with no one ever knowing._

_The ship begins to rise into the sky, and Dysons turns with satisfaction at a mission complete. He stands a distance back to watch the ship disappear and listen to his triumphant leader’s voice echo through the city._

_“ **Rejoice, my soldiers! You have been repurposed into a supreme army!** ” The crowd roars as the ship rises over the city, heading towards the speck in the distance that is the throneship. “ **Together we will cleanse the world of imperfection! Together we will wipe out the agents of chaos!”**_

_As the crowd cheers at the end of Clu’s speech, Dyson turns away to move on to his next mission. The explosion turns him back around just in time to see the cargo ship begin veer down._

_“How…?” How did Tron get out of there_ alive _?_

_He will never know the answer. As quickly as the ship regains freedom, it falls in like a shooting star, crashing into the mountains in a fiery explosion._

_Dyson stands still, until all he can hear is the whistling wind, and the distant sounds of the fire burning up the ship. There was no way Tron could survive that, especially not in his state. His shock fades into a solemn expression, and he nods. “Goodbye…old friend.”_

* * *

 

The hand suddenly grabbing his head pulls him out of the flashback. Before he can so much as breathe, the hand jerks his head up so that he comes face to face with a dark riot mask, belonging to a man in a white police uniform that was nicely stitched up, but still had visible blood stains over the front, right around that all familiar T on the chest.

Dyson snarls, and bats away the hand, and the Renegade throws his first punch. It barely misses Dyson as he backs away and reaches for his weapon. The Renegade doesn’t hesitate to tear forward to swing again. It cracks against the side of his head, and when he stumbles, the Renegade knees him in the chest. He barely catches his balance with how much he is thrown back. He barely ducks under the Renegade’s swing, before managing a hit of his own. The Renegade grunts, and the sound is _almost_ familiar. He makes the same mistake of bending in on himself, and so Dyson kicks him back as he tries to shake off the haunting feeling clinging to him.

The Renegade’s back has been turned to him. It’s almost too easy to charge at him. The Renegade turns around and manages to block the hit before forcing him back. Dyson stumbles and nearly falls to his knees but pushes himself up enough to shove the Renegade back. His swing sails over the Renegade’s head as he crouches. With a push, his feet come up instead. They smack him across the face, and Dyson swears his cheek will bruise as he rights himself. The Renegade leaps to his feet. The gun slips out of the holster as the safety clicks off, and Dyson can barely dodge the bullet. He struggles not to fall back on his butt in shock. Not even _Tron_ used his gun, not until his bitter end.

This was not him.

With a grin, Dyson pulls off a blade like a saw from his uniform and clicks the chain to it. He gives a few warmup swings as the Renegade clicks on the safety of the gun and pulls out the fated knife he has been told of. With a click, the blade glows and the Renegade charges. He swipes out, but Dyson throws himself back, the knife sailing through where his chest had been moments before. He rights himself with a couple steps back, and lets the chain run through his hands with a mighty swing. Miraculously, the Renegade slips underneath as the chain soars above him. Dyson pulls it back into his control, catching the blade by the hilted side with ease.

He sends the Renegade a challenging grin from where he crouches and spins the saw again before charging forward. With each swing, the Renegade backs away and the saw disperses fog higher and higher. Something creaks and groans somewhere in the plant, but both fighters ignore it as Dyson allows the chain as far as it can go. It slips past the Renegade, who barely manages to dodge. With a grunt, he jumps up. As fast as Dyson can, he pulls the chain back before swinging it back forward and stepping on the right link. It’s sent upwards, and the Renegade cries out as the saw slams into his back and throws all his momentum down gracelessly. He lands on his stomach with a loud grunt and Dyson pounces. He pulls the saw out of his back and dimly notes it only cut into protective gear, before he flips the man over onto his back, and presses the blade against his neck. The Renegade goes still except for his head tilting downward slightly to stare at Dyson as he grins.

“Show yourself, Renegade! I’d like to see you before you’re in pieces!”

The Renegade doesn’t respond. If Dyson could see his eyes, he would have no doubt he was glaring in defiance, like Tron would have.

“Come on, Renegade!” He jeers. “Tron wouldn’t have given up this easily-!”

He barely gets the word out before the Renegade lunges for the saw. In surprise, it flies out of Dyson’s grip. A leg catches Dyson in the neck and knocks him off with enough time for the enemy to gather himself. Dyson scrambles for his weapon as the Renegade grabs his knife. With a grunt, the Renegade swings out as Dyson throws the saw. They clash, and the Renegade ducks underneath, before jumping over the slice at his legs. He jumps again, landing on the other side of Dyson. He slips past the wild arc and kicks Dyson back.

The soldier takes the momentum and runs, aware the outlaw is chasing after him. With a grunt, he whips back around, throwing the saw on chain. The Renegade drops to his knees, sliding underneath the saw. With perfectly timed precision, his hands grab the handle of the saw, and the glowing knife in his other hand slices through the chain as if it were nothing.

He pushes himself up to his feet, both hands wielding a weapon. His body spins and kicks out with a grunt, throwing Dyson back. Before Dyson can react, the Renegade kicks again, and he stumbles. The Renegade swings with both blades, and Dyson is lucky to duck and scramble back. A lucky swing hits the Renegade. He grunts, and his foot comes up and sends Dyson flying back. He hits the floor on his back and slides. Disoriented, he tries to blink and look up as the Renegade moves both blades to one hand and uses his empty hand to wrench off the helmet.

Tron allows the helmet to clatter to the floor as he stalks forward, weapons returning to both hands. His left eye is no longer working and has gone dark among the scarring and the burning rage in his right eye.

“No!” _This has to be a ghost!_ Dyson has gone pale and wide-eyed as he shakes his head and scrambles back. “No, it’s not possible! I watched you _die_!”

“You watched _me_ die?” Tron stops, now towering over him. The rage expelling off him is making Dyson tremble as he looks upon the scars he inflicted and the speckles of dried blood all over his chest. He continues forward again with wild eyes that force Dyson to crawl back. “I’ll watch _you_ die!”

At the rate Dyson is crawling back, he is keeping a similar distance between him and the vengeful outcast at almost all times. “You may have escaped,” Dyson pants, but attempts to put his silver tongue to use, “But it’s not much of a life, is it Tron?”

He comes to a stop as he hands grabs onto something in the smoke. Despite this assurance, his breathing grows uncontrolled. “Let me guess. You live in a cave, feeding from your own energy source and depending on the pity of a smuggler to bring you medicine.” He slowly rises, clutching at his arm to distract Tron from the pole he hides behind his back. Tron is breathing heavily as he slowly approaches, but otherwise seems distracted.

“Normal people…they just get _tired_ without that medication. But not you. No, you’ll _die_ without it. Your body feeds off of itself without that medication, unlike everyone else. That was my gift, a modification I added a-as a safeguard.” Tron is still preying down upon him, closer and closer. Dyson finds himself under a light and knows he is about to be cornered without any chance of escape. He has to work faster.

“I can fix you, make you perfect again, _if_ you join us. Join Clu!”

Tron bats his outstretched hand away as he closes in. “I’d rather stay like this forever than be a puppet of a tyrant!”

Dyson feels his back hit the wall. His time is up. As a last-ditch attempt, he roars and swings with the bar of metal hidden behind his back. Tron drops the saw in order to catch his wrist in a deathlike grip. It takes much less effort than Dyson thought it would for Tron to lift him up and throw him over his shoulders. Dyson slams to the floor with a grunt, the bar tumbling out of his hands. His head slams against the floor and for a moment, his vision goes dark. It returns as Dyson takes a shaky breath, and gasps when Tron grabs him by the collar. With a shaking hand, Tron lifts him above his head to where his wild eye must look up at Dyson, and the knife is activated to kill. Tron is breathing heavily, but his grip remains steady. Dyson squints his eyes shut as he feels the outlaw staring deep into his soul. He was, but even then, Dyson’s pathetic face was swimming out of focus in front of him…

* * *

 

_The snow stings against his face, and that is what wakes him. Each breath aches in a way he worries over, and his left side is worryingly dark and makes him feel off balanced. However, all that takes a backseat as he stares out at the open doors of the ship to see dark mountains below._

_How did I get here…? He wonders to himself, but his thoughts fall to pieces before he can ponder them. Sleep is pulling him back into its deep folds with no promise of return, but Tron finds he doesn’t mind…_

_There’s a click, and whatever had been holding him has disappeared. He wavers, eyes still closing as he falls forward, legs crumpling beneath his weight. He’s pulled back into consciousness as he collides with another body._

_Well, that was certainly unexpected._

_He forces his eyes open to find himself staring at gloved hands. Wearily, he raises his head until he can barely see a figure in the corner of his eye. “Who…who are you?”_

_“The name’s Cyrus.” The voice comes from a soldier, one decked in orange and black regalia. He forces the glass over his face up to show his worried expression. “I’m a friend.”_

_Tron is stuck on the orange uniform, and begins to squirm out of the grip. “You-you work for Dyson! For Clu!”_

_Cyrus holds him tighter and hoists him up gently. “Not anymore.” He looks out ot the mountains, and pushes back down the glass on his helmet. “Now jump!”_

_Tron doesn’t argue, doesn’t have time to fight away as Cyrus leaps. He pulls the injured warrior close to him as he pulls the strap on his parachute. They sail away from the ship that Tron dimly realizes is burning and crashing. It hits the side of the mountain, and explodes. For a moment, Tron can’t breathe as he watches in open-mouthed shock. Cyrus lands far away on steady legs. However, when Tron attempts the same, his legs crumple again._

_Cyrus catches him once again, but his arms are shaking. With a grunt, he begins to drag Tron across the snow. Tron doesn’t fight him, energy already spent as he merely clings to consciousness. Everything aches, and sleep brings him no comfort as he remembers his wife and unborn child…gone._

_Cyrus says nothing until he pulls Tron into a cave that protects them from the harsh snowstorm outside. Despite all the thoughts slowly returning to him, sleep is calling again with warm arms that wrap around him._

_“Hey,” Cyrus says gently, and Tron blinks as he realizes the young soldier is holding him, “stay with me.”_

_Tron’s head limply swings towards Cyrus’s voice, and leans into his arm._

_“That’s it.” Cyrus says gently. “We’re going to be all right.”_

_“You…you did this?” Tron’s voice is weaker than it has ever been, and he blearily stares up at his savior. “Why?”_

_Cyrus stares at him with such an expression that even in his addled state, Tron knows he will never forget it. “Well we can’t let your revolution end before it has a chance to start.”_

_Tron doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t speak. Cyrus’s hand cups his forehead. Tron’s brow furrows as he hears fabric shift, and then a warm cloak is draped over his body. “Your fever is growing. Now, rest.”_

_Tron limply nods, never taking his gaze off the snowstorm._

Tron blinks, and the snow is gone, replaced once again by Dyson’s face. He blinks again to focus, Cyrus’s words echoing in his head as his gaze catches on a figure in white in the distance. Beck…he had said the same thing earlier. It was uncanny, that they said the same thing without ever having met.

_‘We can’t let the revolution end before it has a chance to start.’_

They…they were right. And this…what would Yori say if she could see him now? She wouldn’t be proud; even with all that had happened and all that Dyson had done.

_‘To what end, Tron? Is the temporary satisfaction of vengeance worth risking everything? Worth risking Beck’s revolution, and the innocent lives in this city. More lives taken won’t save what was lost…’_

He can nearly imagine her saying that, and his heart aches for it.

This wouldn’t last. If he went through with this and actually _killed_ Dyson, there would be investigations. Beck could be caught, thrown into the prison Tron was destined to end up in. Argon would be placed under siege in vengeance. People would _die_ for his foolhardy act. And like that, the revolution would be over before it even began.

So, with a weary sigh, Tron deactivates the knife, and lets Dyson drop from his grip. Dyson gasps and keels over, catching his breath. Tron watches him, anger dimmed yet present.

“You’re only alive for one reason: to deliver a message.”

And Tron turns his back and walks away. Far above, a weary Beck sighs in relief, grips Tron’s sword, and retreats into the shadows. All that’s left is Dyson, who gapes after where Tron had disappeared.

* * *

“Sir,” Paige begins her report hour later, “I’ve lost track of Dyson.” She bows her head as they walk down the hall. “I take full responsibility.”

Tesler says nothing as he crosses to sit on his throne, so Pavel fills the space.

“It’s a shame she let you down, your excellency.”

“What are you talking about?” Tesler almost laughs. “Paige, you’ve outdone yourself!”

She takes in Tesler’s voice, expression, and relaxed pose in his throne. “Wait. Did Dyson leave Argon?”

“Long gone, quaking in fear!” Tesler is _actually_ grinning. “I should have you two work together more often.”

It’s a praise, Paige knows that, but she still refuses to look at Pavel when he turns to her. Two long hours trapped in the plant with him, dealing with his pitiful pleas for a secret alliance to take down the general. Why should she betray Tesler?

After all, he never betrayed her.

* * *

 

In that span of two hours, Tron instantly returned to the hideout and had made a beeline for the chamber after taking his medication. It was a close call, too; he had begun to shake and stumble, and was glad Beck hadn’t been there to see it.

The two hours were a long rest as the gel soothed and hid away his scarring again. His eyes open as he feels the last of the pain ebb away and finds himself steady. He steps out, and sees the white suit out of the corner of his eye. Tron tries hard not to immediately acknowledge it, unsure what Beck will have to say about all that had happened. After all, he had crossed so many inappropriate lines. He pretends to be interested in his wrist, until he hears Beck speak.

“It was never about getting Dyson’s key, was it?” Tron looks up to see Beck had grown close, but there’s no trace of anger in his eyes.

Tron takes him in for a moment longer. So often he forgets how young Beck truly is. The boy wasn’t even eighteen yet, and still had so much hope in the world despite everything it dragged him through. If Yori had survived…he would have a son or daughter Beck’s age, wouldn’t he? That was a little over eighteen years ago. Maybe they would have her kindness, her strength and intelligence, and his want for righteousness.

But for them, this world would have to be better. Even if they had survived, this world would still seek to destroy them. If there is an afterlife, Tron hopes Yori and their child enjoy the best it has to offer.

Tron averts his gaze. “No.” He says finally. It was about much more; about things that were stolen that could never be returned. “We both know what I was looking for.”

He puts a hand on Beck’s shoulder, and the boy glances to it. “But you helped me find my way. I owe you thanks. And…an apology.”

Beck doesn’t ask what for, and Tron’s glad. He withdraws his hand and begins to walk towards the exit.

“Does that mean I get time off?” Beck asks him finally, and Tron can’t help but chuckle.

“What do you think?”

* * *

 

Later that night, Beck ducks into an alleyway as a patrol marches past. He remains frozen, only letting out his breath when he’s certain he wasn’t spotted. Even then, he pokes his head out before he sprints down the street.

 He turns onto his street, and nearly freezes when he sees the patrol right in front of the orphanage. For the moment, they aren’t facing him, and he takes the opportunity to hop the nearest fence and dive into the bushes. He forces himself to hold his breath and remain still as he hears footsteps rush towards the fence.

“What was that?” A soldier asks.

“What was what?” Another asks, farther away. A pause passes between the two soldiers, before the second continues. “You must be hearing things. Come on.”

For a moment, the first soldier doesn’t move, and Beck wonders if they’re going to ignore their companion and tear through the bushes right then and there. If so, Beck would be cornered. There would be no escaping the Games this time…

The footsteps grow closer for a heart stopping moment, and then the front door opens.

“Ma’am, please go back inside.” The second soldier has rushed to the gate as well, and Beck can only watch with wide eyes as a pair of slippers stop right beside the bush at the entrance to the gate.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Ms. Smith asks over the fence. Through the leaves, Beck can see her hair is pulled out of her face, and she is pulling her robe tight over her pajamas. Hm. It must be later than Beck thought.

“We have suspicion that a…miscreant avoiding curfew is currently taking shelter in your front lawn. I was about to begin an investigation.”

“Oh there’s no need for that.” She says simply. “I can check for you. Then, I’ll go back inside and enjoy the rest of the night, whether or not I find anyone for you to take in.”

The first soldier begins to protest, but the second cuts him off. “Very well, ma’am. Do you see anyone in your bushes?”

Ms. Smith crosses, eyes searching the bushes. Beck is watching her, curled up as tight as he can. He nearly gasps as she turns and for a heart-stopping second, they meet gaze. Then, she blinks, and her gaze continues on.

“There’s no one here.” She says finally, and Beck softly let out his held breath.

“Very well, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Thank you.” She responds softly, and Beck listens as their footsteps grow quieter and quieter until they’re gone. He begins to shift, then freezes when he hears her sigh. “What are you doing in my bushes?”

He freezes, unsure whether he should respond or not until she looks back to him.

“Come on out.”

Beck figures he has nothing to do except obey, so he stands, rising out of the bushes. Ms. Smith hardly seems surprised to see him, only sparing him a glance before staring out into the street.

“So,” she asks again, “why were you hiding out in my bushes in the first place?”

He feels his cheeks growing hot, and he goes to rub the back of his neck. His sleeves that are too big slip down his arm and he feels so lucky he had left the Renegade uniform with Tron tonight. “Missed call for curfew. I-I’m just trying to get home, Ms. Smith…”

She nods thoughtfully at that, and finally looks to him. Her piercing gaze takes him in, before it freezes on his arm. Her eyes widen, and before he can hide away what he realizes is the chafing on his wrist from the handcuffs, she grabs it and pulls it close.

“What did you do to your wrist?”

“I…it’s nothing!”

“This is not nothing!” She gently turns his wrist, taking in the dried blood from where the handcuffs had cut into his wrist. “You need to get this looked at.”

“It looks worse than it actually is, I swear.”

She hmphs at that. “And what were you doing to get an injury like this?”

He averts his gaze, afraid that if he looks at her any attempts at a lie will fail. Finally, he manages: “One of my friends…he was having a rough time tonight. I went to help him…”

She raises her eyebrows but decides to drop the confusing conversation with a sigh. “Well, at least you’re both okay.”

“Yes ma’am, we’re both okay.”

Slowly, she lets go of his wrist, and he quickly pulls his sleeve down. She throws him a look at that, then looks a little longer at his expression. “Are you sure you’re all right, Beck?”

“Why…why do you ask?”

“You seem…haunted. Did something happen to your friend?”

He wants to look away again but he finds he can’t. His mouth is dry, and so he takes a deep breath. “My friend…I had never seen him like he was tonight. And the thing is…I don’t understand why he acted the way he did. He wouldn’t tell me.”

Ms. Smith isn’t looking at him anymore, but she isn’t watching the street either. Beck follows her gaze to the stars. Only then, does she take a deep breath and speak.

“I can’t say I understand what exactly your friend is going through, but I may empathize on some level, and maybe you can, too.”

“What do you mean?” He looks to her, but her gaze doesn’t avert from the sky.

“The Occupation has taken something from everyone. An unpredictability in emotion could simply be a sign of loss.”

“Loss?” Well, he supposes that would make sense. Tron did lose his eye, and his strength. Clu took that from him.

She nods. “It’s something I’ve seen a lot of it for nearly twenty years now, from everyone from the smallest school child, to the oldest man in the city. We’ve all lost something. Unfortunately, there is no time for grief, not anymore. We all must simply carry on. Hide our tragedies from others.”

“That sounds like something he’s doing. Well, trying. What can I do?”

“There’s not much you can do.” She looks to him, and he swears there’s tears in her eyes, but she doesn’t allow them to fall. She smiles softly, almost bitterly. “Most you can do is be there for him. Does that make sense?”

Beck nods. There’s so much he wants to ask her. What had she seen to garner this reaction? Why did she protect him? Why-

“Beck!” He jumps and turns at his name. Able is standing on the porch to the orphanage, arms crossed. “Inside. _Now._ ”

“You better go.” Ms. Smith says gently. When he turns back to her, her tears are gone, and her smile is lighter. “Sounds like you’re already in enough.”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Thank you for the advice, Ms. Smith.”

“You can call me Caroline, Beck.” She says gently. “It’s okay. And if you need to talk, I’m always available.” Her gaze pierces him again. “Okay?”

He nods rapidly, at a loss for words. “I-yes. Goodnight, Caroline.”

“Goodnight.” She nods to him. He nods in return before awkwardly exiting her gated lawn and crossing the few feet to where Able was waiting for him.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you all night! You’re lucky you weren’t caught by the patrols.”

“Yes, Able. It won’t happen again.”

Able says nothing to that but crosses his arms with a skeptical look. “Go inside, Beck. And don’t forget you’re opening in the morning.”

“Yes, Able.” He passes by Able into the doorway. He steals one glance back through a window to find Caroline has turned away from the stars and returned inside.

* * *

It’s raining when he returns to the capital. Dyson wastes no time in directing his ship to the golden tower in the middle of the city. Lightning cracks the sky as he grows closer to the beacon that used to stand white in hope, and now glows in utter perfection.

The moment the ship touches down on the roof, Dyson marches out, not acknowledging any of the guards with more than a scowl. He reaches the elevator down to find himself dripping from the rain, which matches his growing scowl. He presses the button to an all familiar floor and lets his hand scan. It beeps in confirmation, and he begins to descend.

Finally, the lifts open to his targeted floor, which had been repurposed into a large room, covered wall-to-wall in either windows or screens. One guard stands at attention halfway down the path, but Dyson only has eyes for the man at the end. Clu’s back is currently to him, and his mask is off for once.

“I’ve just returned from Argon with a message from an old friend.” Clu’s head turns slightly, but that’s the only acknowledgement the Luminary gives his second-in-command. “I saw him with my own eyes.”

Thunder booms, and no one moves as Dyson delivers his message.

“Tron. Lives.”

For a long moment, it seems even the storm outside has halted at the news. Clu doesn’t speak immediately, returning to look over the screens showing every city in his empire.

“Interesting.” He says finally. “Who else… _knows about this_?”

Dyson spares a glance to the soldier standing guard. They happen to meet gaze, and the soldier drops all pretense and stature, a protest forming on his lips. Faster than the cry, Dyson’s blade slices and the soldier chokes as he clutches his bleeding neck and crumples. Within moments, the soldier has gone deathly still, and his hands fall from his neck as his last breath leaves him.

“No one.” Dyson says finally, not even bothering to clean his blade. “Only us.”

Clu takes a deep breath, and Dyson knows a smile is gracing his face as he relaxes. “Good.” Then the poisonous smirk slips onto his lips. “ _Let’s keep it that way._ ”


End file.
